


Burn out the Pain

by CaliforniaKat



Series: The Comfortably Numb Series [3]
Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris, True Blood (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 19:19:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 143,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16561745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaliforniaKat/pseuds/CaliforniaKat
Summary: Part 3 of The Comfortably Numb Trilogy, Burn out the Pain continues the story of Eric and Sookie’s journey to find happiness.  When secrets are revealed about Sookie’s family, Eric defies Appius.  However, will the cost be the person Eric loves the most when Appius refuses to let Eric win?





	1. Ruby Jones

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:   
> I own nothing related to True Blood or the Southern Vampire Mysteries novels. Those items provide the inspiration for the story; however, I do not own or profit from the fanfiction I produce using that inspiration (except in the form of your kind comments and reviews).

Chapter 01: Ruby Jones

Sookie was exhausted and could no longer control her yawning.

"Almost there," Bobby assured.

Sookie nodded and thought back over her day as she checked on Ned, who was—thankfully—out like a light in the cat carrier resting on her lap.

As soon as they'd left her and Eric's home, Henry had taken Bobby and her to the first of several vehicles that they'd traveled in that day. After that, Bobby had taken Sookie to a "colleague's" home one building away from his own. The "colleague" hadn't given his name, and Sookie hadn't asked for it. All she knew was that he looked like an extra from a Godfather movie—except much scarier-looking. Luckily, he wasn't big on conversation. While Bobby had snuck into his house so that he could be "seen" by Franklin Mott, the "mobster's" lady friend had helped Sookie dye her hair red and had cooed over Ned, who had been pretty freaked out by the travel and the strange people.

Sookie had been mystified by how it seemed like she'd suddenly found herself in the middle of the 80's movie Married to the Mob, but she'd rolled with the punches as Bobby had set up his own alibi. At least the surreal experience had helped her to keep her mind off of Eric—at least enough not to fall into tears every two minutes.

Via the roof passage, Bobby had gone back to his house on the fifth floor of the next building over. Apparently, Bobby had put his lights on timers so they would periodically indicate that someone was going from room to room; however, his real show for Franklin was when he went outside and amorously greeted a woman—whom, Sookie had later found out, was none other than Thalia.

Apparently, Bobby and Thalia had decided that the easiest way to work together on "Operation: Incriminate Appius" was to pretend to be an item. Having broken things off with Alcide quite a while back because he'd decided to get back together with an ex-girlfriend, Thalia had no problem with the pretense.

And that was how Sookie had ended up with red hair. Bobby figured that if Appius's people somehow gained access to any of the many video cameras on their way to their destination, it would be better if they thought that she was Thalia, so the redhead was still at Bobby's house—laying low with all the lights off; she would stay until morning in order to pretend that she and Bobby had spent the night together. Mott had left earlier and was stationed outside of Carmichael Tower, according to Henry.

After Sookie had spent about five hours at the "mobster's house," Bobby had returned and then had taken Sookie to yet another car. Then, they had driven to Queens, where there had been yet another vehicle—this one with tinted windows. By then, it had been nighttime, so the tint wasn't as noticeable.

"So?" Sookie asked, looking over at Bobby. "Are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"The East Hamptons," he responded. "My great uncle Niall has an estate there, and you're going to be staying with him."

"I'm staying with your great uncle?" Sookie asked with surprise.

Bobby nodded. "We talked a little about him before—remember?"

"He's Claudine's grandfather—right?"

Bobby nodded again. "Yeah. Niall's a bit of an eccentric, but I trust him, and I guarantee that you will be both well-hidden and well taken care of on his estate."

"So—uh—he won't tell anyone about me?" Sookie asked.

"No. As I said," Bobby paused and chuckled, "he's a bit of an oddball—quite paranoid about his security, actually. And," he continued after winking at Sookie, "Claudine is known to visit Niall on the weekends. Whether or not she learns about your being at the estate will be your choice, however."

"So I could keep doing my therapy?" Sookie asked incredulously.

Bobby smiled. "Yeah. That's one of the reasons I chose this place for you; plus, it's not unheard of for me to visit Uncle Niall either, so I can come and go without arousing suspicion—as long as I don't visit more than a few times a month." He chuckled. "Like I said, Niall's gotten a bit peculiar and reclusive, so he runs his estate like Fort Knox, complete with a big fence around it, and his employees are like family, so they can be trusted as well."

"What have you told your uncle about me?" Sookie asked.

"That you're the sister of a college friend of mine from Georgia—a friend who got into a little trouble with the mob."

"The mob?" Sookie asked incredulously.

Bobby nodded. "Yep. Niall is aware that I have somewhat questionable associations, and I told him that your brother's actions have put you into danger and that you need a safe place to keep off the radar for a while."

"And your uncle's just going to let me stay with him?" Sookie asked skeptically.

"Yeah. I told him that you were completely innocent—but that the people your brother worked for thought you might know something incriminating about them. I asked if you could stay with him until I got things straightened out for you."

Sookie shook her head. "I can't believe your uncle would just open up his home to someone in trouble with the mafia like that."

Bobby chuckled. "Trust me—Niall reveled in the story I told him about you. I think he likes to feel needed, and he enjoys a little intrigue." Bobby's tone became more serious, and there was a twinge of guilt in it. "And he's a bit lonely; I really should visit him more." He sighed. "But I'm sure Niall's looking forward to your company!"

"Won't he ask questions about me?" Sookie asked.

Bobby shrugged. "He might be curious about you, but he won't push if you say you would prefer not to talk about things." He chuckled. "Niall's much too polite to be overtly nosey! However, we should come up with an alias for you to go by with him and his staff. 'Sookie' is too unique of a name, and I'd hate for an accidental slip-up to give away your location. Too many people from Manhattan frequent the Hamptons."

Sookie nodded and thought for a moment. She looked down at her ring. "How about Ruby?" she suggested, thinking about the woman described in the history of her family's ring. Ruby had been sent to Georgia, which was where she was supposedly from.

"Like the gemstone?" Bobby clarified.

Sookie nodded.

"Got a preference for a last name?" he asked.

Sookie shook her head.

"Then something simple. How about Jones? I can have some new identity papers prepared for you by the end of the week. And—if Niall asks—just say that your brother's name is Jason, but don't volunteer anything else about him."

Sookie nodded. "At least that's easy to remember," she said somewhat sourly as she thought of her own brother.

"And if your tone is a little embittered when you say his name, so much the better," Bobby added.

There were a few minutes of silence between them.

"What's Niall like?" Sookie asked in order to distract herself from the sorrow that was building up in her as she thought about leaving Eric behind.

Bobby smiled. "You'll like him. He used to run the pharmaceutical company that I told you about a few months ago. And, for a long time, he was quite the power-player in Manhattan. However, now he prefers a quiet life. His favorite thing is tennis."

"Tennis?" Sookie asked with a little chuckle.

Bobby nodded. "He's obsessed with it really. He had several courts built on his estate. Do you play?"

Sookie shook her head.

"Give it a week," Bobby intoned. "Oh—and don't bother him when Maria Sharapova is playing on television."

"Uh—who's that?" Sookie asked.

"His latest crush," Bobby sighed, rolling his eyes. "She's a professional tennis player. He met her at a charity function about two years ago, and he's been mooning over her ever since. I think he even invested in a candy company she owns. She's his favorite player and—like I said—he's sweet on her." He looked at her mischievously. "It's probably for the best that you're not a blonde anymore," he teased, hoping to cheer Sookie up a bit.

"Oh!" Sookie said, suddenly feeling a little nervous. "But the color's only temporary."

Bobby chuckled heartily. "Don't worry, Sook. Niall really is harmless. And he has no love-loss for Appius Northman, so there's no danger of them having any interaction."

"He knows Appius?" Sookie asked with some trepidation.

Bobby nodded. "Sure. But—like I said—he has no idea why you need to hide out, and he doesn't know at all about your connection to Appius or Eric."

"But your uncle knows Eric too—right?" Sookie asked.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah—when Eric was an undergrad at Harvard and had to vacate the dorms for the winter holiday, he would stay with me in the city. All told, he stayed with me for five winters, and we came up here one year."

Sookie sighed loudly and moved the topic off of Eric so that she could hold her tears at bay. "So—um—I'm gonna be Ruby Jones from Georgia?"

"Yeah. I trust Niall and his staff, but—like I said—it would be safer if they didn't know your real name."

"Okay."

Sookie looked out the window and took another deep breath, watching the lights and buildings become less dense. She hoped that was a sign that they were getting close to their destination so that she could finally fall apart.

"We're here," Bobby said as he turned off the main road and pulled up to a small guard station.

Sookie sat up straighter and looked around. However, she couldn't see much—not in the darkness. A tall wrought iron fence emanated from both sides of the gate, and large trees and bushes were planted thickly on both sides of the fence, obviously to maintain the privacy of the property.

"Hey, Bobby. How are you?" a guard asked as Bobby cracked his window.

"Hey, Sean. Not bad."

Despite Sean's only having said five words, Sookie was able to discern a very strong Boston accent from the guard. She'd come to love hearing the different accents in the area, and his was one of the thickest she'd heard.

Sean peered into the car. "You must be the visitor who's gonna stay with us," he said, smiling in an easy way. He looked to be in his early 40's or late 30's.

Sookie nodded. "Ruby Jones," she said by way of an introduction as she gave the guard a little wave.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Jones," Sean said.

"Just Ruby," Sookie said, trying to smile.

"Alright, Ruby. I'm Sean. You have a nice trip here?" the guard asked congenially.

Sookie nodded. "Yes—uh—it was a peaceful drive," she lied.

Sean stepped back and opened the gate. "You guys have a good evening," he said, giving them a little wave. It was only then that Sookie noticed a German Cooper trailing him.

Bobby chuckled as he rolled up the window and progressed through the gate. "There are ten German Coopers on the grounds, but don't worry. Niall will introduce you to them tomorrow, and if they associate you with him, they'll adore you."

"Uh—okay," Sookie said, nervously looking down at Ned.

"They don't go inside the house, so Ned will be just fine—not that they'd hurt him anyway," he smiled. "There are a couple of outdoor cats around, and they cuddle in with the dogs on cold nights."

Sookie sighed a little with relief as Bobby continued, "Sean—the guy at the gate—is actually one of two brothers who oversee security. They also drive Niall around when he leaves the estate. The other brother's name is Mikey, and you'll likely meet him tomorrow. They took over the security when their dad retired. Sean and Mikey's aunt, Louise oversees the house like a general. She's also the cook. Her husband, Jake, is the estate's gardener. Their daughter, Karen, helps out Louise when she's not at school."

"So it's all one family?" Sookie asked.

"Yeah—the Foresters," Bobby responded. "They have worked for my great uncle for three generations—mostly taking care of this estate. Of course, some of the kids have moved on and done other things, and Niall sends them off to college as if they were his own. Niall built the Foresters a house of their own on the property, though I think that Hal and Bernice—those are Mikey and Sean's parents—are off traveling in Australia right now."

Sookie gasped a little as they drove up to a huge house.

Bobby chuckled. "I used to call this place 'stately Wayne manor' when I was a kid, so I know what you mean. I think I told you that this branch of my family is quite a bit wealthier than the Burnhams, and we're pretty goddamned rich!" He chuckled again as he looked around. "This kind of estate seems excessive to me, but—then again—I saw how hard Uncle Niall worked for most of his life. And—unlike some greedy bastards—Uncle Niall never drove up the prices of the pharmaceuticals that his company produced. In fact, he was pretty much single-handedly responsible for the development of the generic medicine industry, and has taken the profits from that and funded so many hospital wings that I can't even remember where they all are."

Sookie smiled. "He sounds like a good man."

Bobby nodded. "He is." He turned to her and winked as he parked the car. "Of course, he's still got plenty of money, so no need to worry about him."

Sookie didn't have time to say anything else as an older man—probably in his late seventies, but moving more like he was in his fifties—came out to greet them. From the lights illuminating the front entryway of the house, Sookie could see that he was smiling excitedly.

Niall had her door opened as soon as Bobby turned off the engine.

"Well hello, my dear!" Niall exclaimed, reaching into the car to take Sookie's hand. Bobby took Ned so that Niall could help Sookie out of the vehicle.

"This is Ruby, Uncle Niall. Ruby Jones," Bobby said as he got out of the car.

"Thanks so much for letting me stay here," Sookie said, even as Niall was shaking his head and squeezing her hand in a friendly manner.

"Think nothing of it, Miss Jones."

"Uh—call me Ruby, please," Sookie said.

Niall smiled. "And I'm sure that Bobby told you that I am Niall Brigant, but I hope you will call me Niall."


	2. A Niggling Sensation

Chapter 02: A Niggling Sensation

Sookie smiled at Niall. "I really appreciate you letting me stay here," she said.

"We all get into a spot of difficulty now and then, my dear," Niall said kindly. "And Bobby might as well be a son to me." He winked. "You see—I'm still too young to have grandchildren."

Sookie smiled at the charming man, though she couldn't quite muster a laugh.

"Come—let's get you settled," Niall said, jutting out his arm for her to take.

Bobby grabbed Sookie's suitcase and carried both it and Ned inside, following along behind Niall as he escorted Sookie into the house.

"Now—I know that you must be tired," Niall said in a friendly manner. "But Louise left you a portion of tonight's meal warm in the oven. And you can help yourself to anything you want in the kitchen." His eyes lit up. "Tonight it was Louise's famous veal parmigiana though, so you should definitely try it if you haven't already eaten."

Sookie nodded, though she really had no appetite.

As Niall led her through the house, he occasionally pointed things out. "Now—the kitchen is that way," he said, gesturing toward the right.

"And my study, which is where I spend most of my time, is over there," he said, pointing to the left. He stopped for a moment and opened the door of a huge library.

Sookie gasped a little.

Niall chuckled. "When I asked Bobby what my guest liked doing with her time, he said that you enjoyed reading; please feel free to borrow anything you like. I've read almost everything in here, and it's sad to see these books getting dusty from disuse," he said with a twinkle in his eyes. "But don't tell Louise that I mentioned anything about dust."

Sookie smiled. "I won't."

Niall grinned. "Plus, there's nothing I like more than talking about a good book with someone!"

"Thank you," Sookie said sincerely as she looked from the beautiful room back to her host.

Niall closed the door and resumed the tour. "Now through there is a nice sunroom. I had it added on to the house for my late wife, who enjoyed reading in there, especially in the mornings since the room faces east." He pointed elsewhere. "Up the stairs, you will find my room and the other family rooms. You can explore up there tomorrow if you want."

They stayed on the first floor, and Niall led her in the opposite direction down a long hallway. Sookie was trying to take it all in, but was already a little lost in the enormous house.

"Back here is the guest suite," Niall said, opening the door to a large sitting room. Sookie noticed that a covered litter box and cat food and water were already set up in one of the corners.

Niall followed her eyes. "Yes—I figured you might want to base your little one in these rooms and keep him here, at least for tonight. Of course—after that—he can roam the house at will."

Niall smiled as he looked back at Bobby, who had been following them quietly. "We haven't had a pet in the house for years—not since the grandkids were young and used to bring in strays." He chuckled. "Louise would skin my hide if I let the dogs in! They are too big and too likely to track in mud and shed all over the place! But I think your little one will be okay."

"Thank you so much," Sookie said again.

"You must stop thanking me," Niall chastised good-naturedly. "After all, I've been wanting some more company. My granddaughter, Claudine, comes most weekends," he said, "but both she and the Foresters are tired of all my old stories. And my other relatives," he gave Bobby a mock-glare and then a wink, "only come when they want to get away from the city. So—you see—you're doing me a favor by staying here."

Bobby chuckled. "If you didn't force me to play tennis each time I came, I would be up here more often." He winked in Sookie's direction. "Doesn't Maria play tomorrow?"

Niall's eyes brightened. "Yes—Miss Sharapova does play, but at 11:00 a.m. Australian time, so I have my DVR ready to go."

Bobby chuckled again.

Sookie smiled at Niall as he led her from the sitting room into a bedroom. Sookie was surprised by how modern the décor was—almost too modern. She looked at the odd headboard and tried to hold in her skeptical look—and her laughter.

Niall sighed. "It's really not to my taste either. But my grandson Claude went through a phase when he wanted to be an interior designer, and he talked me into letting him redo these rooms. I haven't had the heart to change them, and other than the horrid headboard, it's not so bad." He chuckled.

Niall kissed Sookie's hand. "Well—I'll let you get settled. And I'll see you tomorrow."

"Uh," Sookie said uncertainly, not really knowing how to phrase her question, "is breakfast at any particular time?"

Niall shook his head. "No—I've never cared for a big breakfast, so just go to the kitchen whenever you're ready. Louise or Karen will have coffee going by six or so, but don't feel as if you need to rush to get around."

Sookie nodded. "Thanks again, Mr. Brigant."

Niall shook his head. "You must stop doing that, and I insist that you call me Niall, or Uncle Niall—like that one," he grinned, looking over at Bobby. "Now—remember to help yourself to anything you need."

"Okay," Sookie smiled.

Niall looked at Bobby on his way out.

"You staying the night? Louise insisted upon getting your room ready."

"No, but thank her for me," Bobby said. "I'll be heading back to the city once Ruby's settled, but I'll be back soon—probably next weekend. And I'll stay overnight then."

Niall nodded and gave his grand-nephew a kiss on the cheek. Sookie smiled at the older man's affectionate gesture.

"Niall's great," Sookie said to Bobby once they were alone.

"Yeah—he's always been cool, and since both sets of my own grandparents died before I was born, Niall sort of adopted me as a grandkid in a way."

Sookie took Ned out of his carrier and showed him his litter box and food. Now wide awake, the kitten immediately began sniffing everything in the room, though he kept an eye on where Sookie was and followed her into the bedroom when she went back in there.

Bobby was setting her suitcase onto an odd bench at the foot of the bed.

Sookie took in the green dot on the bench with a shake of her head.

"Claude's tastes always were a bit peculiar," Bobby chuckled. "But this is still a nice room due to its location." He pointed to the windows on two sides of the space. "You'll have a great view of the rose garden during the day."

Sookie nodded. "I can't say thank you enough."

Bobby shook his head. "We're doing this for Eric. And you'll never have to thank me for helping him. Plus—like I said a week ago—you are family now too."

Sookie took his hand and squeezed it. "Thank you."

"How are you holding up?" Bobby asked.

Sookie gave him a little smile. "I'm waiting for you to leave so that I can fall apart—actually."

Bobby nodded in understanding. "We'll get what we need against Appius," he said.

"I just hope we can do it soon. I don't like the idea of Eric hurting so much," Sookie said, trying, but failing, to hold in a sob. "I wish we could tell him that I'm close."

"He'd never have let you stay," Bobby said. "He wouldn't want you to be in danger. And he wouldn't want you sacrificing for him . . . ." He paused and sighed deeply.

"Because he doesn't think he deserves it," Sookie said continuing Bobby's thought.

Bobby closed his eyes and nodded. "Eric's better—emotionally—than he used to be, and he's good at hiding things, but . . . ." He stopped midsentence again.

Sookie sighed and took Bobby's hand. Neither of them needed to talk aloud about how Sookie's leaving would affect Eric.

"Please make sure he keeps going to see Claudine," Sookie whispered. "And promise me that you'll stick to him like glue for a while."

"I promise," Bobby vowed.

"Bobby," she asked, "do you think that Appius would hurt Eric?"

A look of concern flickered across Bobby's eyes. The perceptive Sookie didn't miss it.

"What is it?" she asked. "Has something happened?"

Bobby gestured for Sookie to sit down on the bed even as he took a seat in one of the chairs by the windows. Ned immediately jumped up onto the bed and presented himself for Sookie to pet.

"Isabel called me earlier—while I was at my place with Thalia. It seems that Appius was in a bit of a rage after hearing your message."

"Oh God!" Sookie muttered, horrified at what Appius might have done. "He hurt Eric—didn't he?" she asked, already moving to get up. "You need to take me to him—right now! Is he okay?"

Bobby put his hand onto Sookie's arm, soothing her until she sat back down.

"It wasn't bad," he said. "Eric's okay, but Isabel was worried about him, so she called me."

"What happened? Tell me everything."

Bobby sighed loudly. "Isabel said that Appius was being his usual obnoxious self when he got a phone call. It must have been from the person he had monitoring the listening device." He ran his hand through his hair. "Appius asked to speak to Eric alone, and there was some kind of physical altercation that left Eric with nasty bruises around his throat."

"Dear God!" Sookie exclaimed, closing her eyes tightly. "Appius tried to choke him?"

Bobby sighed. "It looked that way to Isabel. I'll find out more from Eric later."

"I didn't think Appius would physically hurt Eric," Sookie said, clearly upset and regretting her decision to leave Appius the message that had been the catalyst for his violence. "This is all my fault!'

"No—this is Appius's fault," Bobby said firmly. "Isabel said that Eric threatened to kill Appius if he had hurt you, and that spurred on Appius to attack Eric." Bobby sighed again, this time drawing in a long breath before letting it out. "But from what she said, whatever you conveyed in your message seemed to have worked to convince Appius that you've left without Eric's help, and that's a good thing." Bobby closed his eyes for a moment. "There's more. Do you want to hear it?"

Sookie nodded and bit her lip nervously.

"There's good news and bad news."

"The good?"

"It seems that Appius will be leaving Eric alone at NP. He's promised not to interfere with Eric's work in any way and to stop requiring him at family functions—though he won't stop Eric from seeing his siblings as long as Appius isn't present."

"The bad news?" Sookie asked.

"In exchange for this, Eric has nine months to marry Isabel."

"But the contract gives him more time. Why would Appius want Eric to get married sooner? And why to Isabel? She'd be good for him," Sookie said, even though the words injured her.

Bobby sighed. "For Appius, everything is about games and control. He knows that once Eric is married and settled—especially if there are children—he will be easier to control. Plus, Appius knows that Eric truly wants to marry you, and he also knows that marrying anyone else—even someone like Isabel Edgington—will be like a stake to Eric's heart."

Sookie closed her eyes tightly. "What will Isabel do?"

Bobby's brow furrowed. "She agreed. They will be getting engaged as soon as Eric gets the ring."

A tear slid down Sookie's cheek. "At least she's a good person."

"She is," Bobby agreed. "That's another reason she called me. She asked if I knew where you were. And I don't think she believed me when I told her I didn't."

A little afraid, Sookie asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Because she asked me to pass along a message to you before she hung up."

"What message?"

Bobby raked his hand through his hair again. "That she is agreeing to marry Eric because it's a good arrangement for her too—but that she will call off the engagement right away if you come back. She wanted me to make sure you knew what kind of arrangement she and Eric had made."

"What kind?" Sookie asked in a whisper.

"According to Isabel, Eric was very clear that he wouldn't be cheating on you—even after they got married. He mentioned adoption or in vitro fertilization as ways to have children." Bobby paused. "Sookie, Eric set up a partnership with a friend, but he told her that you would always be the wife of his heart—no matter what."

Sookie let out another sob and looked at her ring.

"Isabel told me that—first and foremost—she would like to help Eric to be happy, and she believes that is with you. But Eric seems convinced that you and he cannot be together, so she is going to help him by marrying him."

"When?" Sookie asked.

"As I said, they'll be getting engaged soon, but they intend to wait until Appius's deadline is up."

"So nine months?" Sookie asked.

Bobby nodded. "The third week in October."

Sookie closed her eyes, suddenly feeling as if the world were spinning. Twenty-four hours before, she and Eric had exchanged their own vows, and it hurt to know that he was now planning to marry someone else sooner than either of them had thought would be required. She tried to take solace in what Isabel had told Bobby about the arrangement she'd made with Eric. But Sookie could only imagine the hurt that Eric was experiencing.

His father had physically attacked him, and then he had—once again—asserted his control over Eric's life. Sookie couldn't help but to doubt Appius's promise to stay out of Eric's business—even if he complied with Appius's directive concerning the marriage to Isabel. However, Sookie still prayed that Appius would leave Eric alone. And—if Eric's marrying Isabel was the key to that—Sookie was all for it, despite the fact that the thought made her stomach queasy.

"Sook? You okay?" Bobby asked.

Sookie took a couple of deep breaths and then opened her eyes, only to find the world spinning a little. Her stomach lurched, and she ran into her new, beautiful bathroom, but the only thing she noticed about it in that moment was the toilet as she lost all of the food she'd been able to take in that day.

Niall walked up the stairs with a smile on his face. Ruby Jones had been charming—if a little shy—and he certainly looked forward to having a new dinner companion. His smile faded, however, as he thought about the sadness in her eyes. He wondered if it had to do with her brother, whose association with the mob had apparently endangered Ruby. Niall shook his head a little as he thought about his great-nephew's odd associations. Niall knew that Bobby had a good heart, but the young man also enjoyed living somewhat on the edge.

Niall had once hired a private investigator to learn more about Bobby's "career," but the man had failed, and Bobby had shown up at Niall's home to deliver a full report—including surveillance photos—that he'd made on the private eye! Bobby'd, luckily, had a sense of humor about the whole thing, and Niall had fired the private eye. Then Bobby had told Niall about what he did, and—though Niall hated the danger of it—he could admit that it was honorable work in a way. Basically speaking, Bobby worked as an occasional go-between for the police and certain members of the more established mob families when the two sides had similar "interests." For example, Niall knew that Bobby had helped both sides work together to stop a child prostitution ring several years before. Niall also knew that Bobby worked for his friend, Eric Northman, in some capacity.

Niall scoffed. While he liked Eric, Niall had no time for Appius Northman. It wasn't as if Niall and Appius had ever locked horns over anything; after all, their business ventures had never intersected, and they were of different generations, so they'd been able to steer clear of each other. No. Niall didn't care much for Appius because—in Niall's opinion—Appius had treated his own father like shit.

Niall sighed. John Northman had been one of Niall's closest friends. And Niall still missed his old friend very much. Of course, Niall didn't miss having to tolerate John's wife, Grace. But being congenial to her had been a small price to pay for his dear friend. Niall had seen the way that John's estranged relationship with Appius had eaten at him. And Grace—if anything—had fostered the dissention between father and son. Niall shook his head and put aside his thoughts of his old friend so that his grief would not bring him down.

Niall had lost many friends—as well as his beloved wife—and he knew that he had far fewer days ahead than he had behind, but he had, long ago, decided to make the most of them. And focusing on loss and grief was not conducive to his resolution to enjoy the twilight of his life. Instead, he thought about his new houseguest and the enjoyment he would get in discussing books with the obviously intelligent woman. It had been a while since he'd had company for an extended period of time.

He smiled again as he pictured Ruby; there was something about her that seemed so familiar. But Niall couldn't imagine where he might have met her before.

Niall shook his head and went through his routine of getting ready for bed, cursing that his old body was now limiting his energy level. Sometimes it felt as if his body were creaking like a dilapidated house, though his mind was still sharp—at least most of the time.

At that moment, however, it wasn't cooperating as he wished it would.

His mind continued to latch onto the odd inkling of familiarity he'd felt when meeting Ruby. But he still couldn't put his finger on where he'd seen her before. However, there was something—perhaps in the shape of her face or in the rise of her cheekbones—that made him think that he'd definitely seen her before.

Or—maybe it was her name: Ruby. It seemed familiar.

He sighed as he got into bed and picked up one of his favorite books, Mark Twain's A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Perhaps spending more time with Ruby would help him to figure out why she seemed familiar.

He shrugged and turned to where he'd left off the night before in the well-worn book, and soon his was lost in the world Twain had created.


	3. The World Grows Smaller

Chapter 03: The World Grows Smaller

"The world is too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love."—William Sloane Coffin

SUNDAY, JUNE 2, 2013

Sookie stared out the window, looking at the beautiful spring flowers just outside of it. The June day was unseasonably hot and humid, so Sookie had opted to sit in the sunroom and read, rather than to lounge by the pool as she'd become accustomed to doing. Jake waved as he looked up from his weeding, and she waved back.

It had been more than four months since she'd arrived at Niall's estate, and so many things were changing—even as everything seemed trapped in a stasis.

Bobby came to Niall's home a few times a month, though he sent Sookie video feeds so that she could "read" them a lot more often than that. Thalia had been indispensable in that area, finding ways to capture both Appius and Andre on video. In fact, two months before, Thalia had managed to hack into some of the security feeds at Northman Towers. Appius's and Andre's offices, as well as the private elevator and conference room that Appius used, were—unfortunately—on an independent system. And Thalia had not yet been able to break into that, though she was still trying.

Sookie sighed. Despite all of the video feeds she'd "read," they'd yet to find a piece of information that would put the final nail in Appius's coffin—so to speak.

They'd been gathering a lot of little things against him, however. And they'd also learned about a litany of ways that he was still trying to monitor and control Eric—even though he'd had no direct contact with him since the day Sookie had left.

She sighed as she thought about everything they'd found out. They'd learned that it had been Stan Davis who had provided Appius with the listening device that had been in Eric's office. Then, the world had become exponentially smaller when they'd learned that it was Lorena Krasiki, Bill Compton's old flame at the FBI, who had helped to get Appius even more sophisticated surveillance equipment. And then they'd learned that Appius had employed Debbie Pelt to place that new equipment into Eric's home—in his office, the living room, the kitchen, and the master bedroom. Each of the four next generation surveillance devices recorded audio; however, the one in the bedroom had been installed in a vent and also recorded video.

It had been a week after Henry had hired Debbie Pelt—whose qualifications had seemed impeccable and who had come highly recommended by Alcide Herveaux—that Sookie "read" part of a conversation between Appius and Andre during which they spoke of Lorena, Debbie, and the surveillance items in Eric's home.

Bobby, along with Thalia, had immediately sought out Henry's help, and had sprung into action. They'd waited until Debbie was not working and then had gone into Eric's home. Thalia had made a thorough search both inside the house and on the veranda. Luckily, she'd detected the surveillance devices' signals before they had detected her, and she had stayed quiet so as not to trigger them. However, because of the sophistication of the devices, she couldn't tamper with their signals without alerting whoever was monitoring them.

The most difficult part for Bobby had been telling Eric about the fact that more bugs, as well as a video surveillance device, had been planted into his home—a home Eric clearly still thought of as his and Sookie's.

According to Bobby, Eric had taken the news stoically—emotionlessly—almost as if he were expecting it.

They'd lucked out in that Pam had been the only visitor in Eric's home from the time that Debbie Pelt had been hired to the time the bugs were found. Eric and Pam had spoken in the living room, and they had spoken of Sookie. However, Pam believed the "official" story that Eric told most of their friends after Sookie left: that she had been gone when he returned from the charity brunch and that he had no idea where she was. Pam was still in shock that Sookie would just leave without a word or a trace, but neither she nor Eric had said anything that Appius could use against them or Sookie. In fact, most of the brother and sister's time together had been spent with Pam trying to "cheer up" Eric with gossip from work and the social scene.

After Eric knew about the surveillance devices, a choice had to be made—whether to take them out, which would be a giveaway that they knew about Debbie, or to allow them to stay.

Eric had insisted that they stay, even though Henry had wanted to throw the bugs, the video camera, and Debbie out with the trash. But Eric had argued that the surveillance would prove only that Eric was as destroyed as Appius had hoped. Eric had assured the others that he'd done nothing that would indicate that he'd known that Sookie was going. And he'd said that it didn't much matter that Appius could watch him toss and turn at night.

Eric's reaction had made Sookie want go to him immediately. She also wanted to go to their home and immediately rip down the video camera, which—according to Thalia—was pointed straight at their bed.

Not long after Sookie had "heard" about Debbie, a newly placed video camera outside of Eric's building—a secret one that only Thalia, Henry, and Bobby knew about—captured Debbie speaking to Lorena, who had given Debbie a device that she could use to record the signal from Eric's cell phone. After the frequency of Eric's phone had been recorded by the device, Lorena would be able to track it—and Eric. And—even worse—Lorena and, therefore, Appius would be able to monitor all of the conversations Eric had on his cell phone.

Again, Eric had met the news with ambivalence. Bobby now gave Eric a new disposable phone every week for private conversations, but Eric still carried his other phone to work every day, and he still spoke to work colleagues using it.

But he'd also made and received personal calls on it—calls that he wanted Appius to hear. He had told Mormor that Sookie had left him using that phone. He had found out that Hadley had died on that phone. He had discussed engagement and wedding plans with Isabel on that phone. All of these calls were "true," and all would have convinced Appius of both Eric's misery and his compliance.

After Thalia had begun to steal feeds from NP, Sookie had begged Bobby to send her some of the video from Eric's office so that she could, at least, see him. She knew that it wasn't fair that she got to see him when he didn't get to see her—or even know that she was close—but nothing about the situation was fair.

Sookie sighed deeply and fought her rising tears. Eric's eyes were sunken and sad every time she got a good look at them. She could tell that he wasn't sleeping well. What she read from his lips told her that he was working and functioning. But in his eyes, she saw the same pain and longing that she saw in her own reflection when she looked in the mirror. However, his pain was worse, for his eyes held almost no hope.

A million times Sookie had wanted to tell Eric the truth. But each time, she'd stopped herself.

Sookie frowned. Bobby and she simply didn't have enough information to conquer Appius yet. The proof they'd gathered of Stan Davis and Lorena helping Appius to illegally obtain surveillance equipment would be more damaging to the Senator and the FBI agent than to Appius. And the evidence that Appius was spying on his son would get him only a slap on the wrist.

They now had a lot of proof that Appius's marriage to Sophie-Anne was in name only, but exposing the fact that Appius was bisexual and was having an affair with his wife's brother would only be a scandal as long as it took the next B-list celebrity to have a meltdown.

Sookie felt her stress level rising, and she knew she needed to relax and calm herself. So she closed her eyes and made herself think of the good things that had happened during the time she'd been in the Hamptons.

One of those good things was the feeling of family she'd found at Niall's estate. Niall treated Sookie as if she were a granddaughter, and he truly was wonderful company. He'd even encouraged her to work on the project that she'd been planning to submit for her dissertation before she'd dropped out of the Ph.D. program at Old Miss in order to leave Bill Compton behind and begin afresh in New York. Sookie found it exhilarating to speak about her academic work with Niall, who sometimes seemed almost professor-like in his ability both to push her and to encourage her to push herself.

The others on the estate had also immediately treated her like family. Louise—just as Bobby had said—ran the household with an energy and a verve that was almost intimidating. But Sookie liked her from the start. When Sookie asked if she could help with the meals a bit, Louise had asked Sookie a single question: "Do you want to help because you like to cook or because you feel an obligation?" Once Louise had learned that Sookie truly enjoyed cooking, the older woman he opened "her kitchen" with grace. Niall had been astounded, given the fact that he was shooed from the kitchen anytime Louise was cooking.

However, Louise had just rolled her eyes at Niall and reminded him that he'd been "expelled" from the kitchen because he was always "under-foot."

Jake, Louise's husband, was a quiet man—at least most of the time. But he was the type of person that everyone listened to when he did speak. He took care of the grounds of the estate almost single-handedly and reminded Sookie of Clive Owen from the movie Greenfingers—except that he didn't learn how to garden in prison. Sookie chuckled a little as she had this thought. Jake had been teaching her how to care for roses, and Sookie couldn't help but to feel more connected to Gran when she worked with Jake in the garden.

Karen, Louise and Jake's daughter, was a bit younger than Sookie. Karen helped her mother in cleaning the house and was also going to Suffolk County Community College for her Associate's degree in business. When Karen came to Sookie for help with an essay she was writing, Sookie felt like an older sister—a feeling she quite liked.

Sookie also learned that Louise and Jake had two other children, both older than Karen. Their oldest child, Danny, was working for Claudette at Brigant Pharmaceuticals in Manhattan. And their middle child, Stacy, was getting her degree in childhood development and was working as a nanny in Boston.

Mikey and Sean, Louise's younger brothers, seemed content to work as Niall's security guards/drivers. Both had wonderful senses of humor. However, while Mikey seemed to be a perpetual playboy, Sean had been in a serious relationship with a woman named Mindy for almost five years, and they were due to marry the following year when she finished her residency. Though Sookie had met Mindy only a few times, she could tell that the couple was very well-suited for each other.

Indeed—the only problem Sookie had in her interactions with Niall, Louise, and the others was that they all thought of her as "Ruby Jones." Sookie hated the fact that she had been lying to them all about her name—but she'd tried to reconcile herself to the fact that it was for the best.

She once again tried to expel her more anxiety-inducing thoughts as she forced herself to concentrate on the other positives that had occurred over the last several months.

The best thing had involved Bobby and Thalia. Their "pretend" relationship had morphed into a very real relationship over the months, and Bobby had even been spending time with Thalia's kids. Moreover, Sookie could tell that Bobby was happy—much happier than he had been while he was pining away for Pam. Bobby had even confided in Sookie that he was thinking about proposing to Thalia.

Pam and Amelia were also doing well, though they'd broken up more than once in the months that Sookie had been gone. Bobby had told her that those break-ups tended to coincide with one of the two of them feeling frightened because of the level of commitment they were achieving. But none of their break-ups had lasted more than two days. The two relationship-phobic women were obviously a bit spooked, but they were also understanding when the other needed a few days to "regroup."

Sookie had also learned from Bobby that Eric had continued their tradition of going to the MET each Sunday, a day which Henry kept Debbie off the schedule so that Eric could leave his phone in the house and sneak out. Sookie wondered about the galleries he was visiting each Sunday, and—of course—she wished that she could join him at the MET, but it was too much of a risk. She was glad to know that Eric was seeing Ben and the others each week. She knew that they all cared about Eric, and that's what he needed right now: a lot of people around him that truly cared.

Months before, she'd asked Bobby to get her a print of Wheat Field with Cypresses—the Van Gogh she thought of as hers and Eric's. And she'd put it on the wall in her room—right over the fireplace. But it didn't have the same textures as the real painting, and no matter how much she stared into it, she couldn't quite find the shades of blue that made Eric's eyes.

Once again in danger of becoming upset, Sookie forced herself to look back down at her book. Thinking about the pain Eric might be feeling was not good for her blood pressure or her appetite, and she'd promised Niall, Bobby, Claudine, and her doctor that she would try to keep her stress levels down.

"Ruby, is it Bobby's baby?" Niall asked gently, interrupting Sookie's reading.

"No," Sookie chuckled, looking up at the older gentleman as he entered the sunroom.

"Oh," Niall said with a little disappointment. "Well—no matter."

Sookie patted the chair next to her. She had known that Niall had been hoping that her child was his great-nephew's. But Niall hadn't come right out and asked her before.

"Doctor Ludwig said that she'd been able to tell the gender of the child?" Niall asked as he sat down. "But she wouldn't tell me," he added with a little pout that looked charming on the older gentleman.

"Yes. A boy," Sookie responded with a chuckle.

Niall smiled. "That's what you thought all along."

Sookie nodded and smiled back, even as her hand drifted down to her ever-expanding belly. Luckily, the doctor that Bobby and Niall had arranged for, an almost troll-looking woman named Amy Ludwig, still believed in house calls—on Sundays, no less. The doctor was an old friend of Niall's and had gone over to the Forester's home for a visit with Louise after she'd left Sookie an hour before.

Niall took one of Sookie's hands. "Now I know that I've said that it doesn't matter why you came here, and I haven't asked a lot of questions—not even when you told me that you were pregnant, but . . . ." He stopped for a moment.

"But?" she prompted.

He sighed. "There are times when I say your name that you don't answer. And then there's the fact that Claudine seemed to know you when she first saw you here. And then there's the fact that your hair had been dyed red when you came here."

Sookie smiled at Niall a little and squeezed his hand, even as she rubbed her belly with her other hand. The light in the room caught the light in the yellow diamond in her ring.

"Is the person that got you pregnant the one who gave you that ring?" Niall asked.

Sookie nodded, but then shrugged. "Yes. Kind of."

Niall looked confused at her words.

Sookie clarified, "The baby's father gave me the ring, but my grandmother gave it to him before she died so that he could use it as my wedding ring."

"Are you married?" Niall asked.

"Only here," Sookie responded, motioning to her heart. "I can't be with the baby's father."

His concern evident, Niall squeezed Sookie's hand. "Did he hurt you? Or hit you?" he growled out.

Sookie shook her head vigorously. "No! He's given up everything to protect me. And he," she paused, "doesn't even know about our child."

Niall sighed. "Why does Bobby come here almost every week? What do you discuss with him for hours on end? I don't believe it's your brother's situation."

Sookie closed her eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't told you the truth."

He patted her hand. "Ruby, you have become part of this family. I hope you know that. It doesn't matter what may have happened before. But I see how unhappy you are, and the doctor is concerned with your health. We all are." Niall sighed. "Please, tell me how I can help you."

"You already are," Sookie assured.

Niall sighed. "Then tell me how I can help you to be happier, Ruby. You are having a child, and I know that you love him. But I also know that you are very unhappy."

"Not with my life here," Sookie said quickly.

"Oh—I know that!" Niall said, shushing her.

"I do love my baby," she sighed, looking down at her belly, "so much." Sookie looked back at Niall and decided it was time to tell him the whole truth; plus, she wanted to tell him. "When Bobby comes here, he and I discuss how we can help the baby's father," she said honestly.

"How do you know Bobby?"

Sookie took a deep breath. "Through Eric."

Dots seemed to be connecting in Niall's still-supple mind.

"Eric Northman? That's the only Eric that Bobby cares enough about to do anything for," Niall observed.

Sookie nodded in confirmation and took a deep breath. "My name isn't really Ruby," she said quietly. "It's Sookie."

Niall accepted that information without question. "Is Eric the father of your child, Sookie?"

She nodded and then went on to tell Niall about how she and Eric had met and fallen in love. She told him of her lip-reading ability and how it had developed. She told him about her mother's treatment of her, as well as about Bill's betrayal. She told him about her move to New York. She told him of Appius's treatment of Eric—from the time when he was a boy, to the day of the paternity test, to the confrontation in the museum the previous January, to the incident when Appius had left bruises on Eric's throat. She told him about the contract and about the threats Appius had made against Eric—the threats that had driven her away. She told him about the surveillance equipment and the spy in Eric's building. She ended by reiterating that Eric didn't even know that he was to be a father—that Sookie was afraid that Appius would use their child as a pawn if he found out about him.

"And you still love him?" Niall asked, after having listened to her whole story without a comment.

"Yes. Eric is my soul mate," she said simply. "But Bobby and I haven't yet found anything that is big enough to make Appius stop hurting Eric." Sookie allowed the tears that she had been holding in for weeks to fall. "Every day, I want to go to him." She shook her head. "When Dr. Ludwig performed the ultrasound this morning, I felt horrible that I had kept Eric from that. Only I got to see the little life that Eric and I made." She wiped her eyes with a Kleenex handed to her by Niall, wishing more than anything that she had one of Eric's handkerchiefs.

"And his tiny heart, Niall," she continued in stutters, now almost weeping, "the baby's heartbeat is so strong. Even Dr. Ludwig said that she's never heard a stronger one. But all I can think about is that Eric should have been here when she told me that we were going to have a son. Eric should have been here to hear that our son had inherited his father's strong and beautiful heart."

Niall held Sookie tightly as she cried in his arms. He rubbed her back trying to sooth her. Never had Niall felt so powerless to make someone feel better. His life had been spent in the pursuit of curing human illness, but there was no drug that could take away the pain that Eric and Sookie were enduring. There was no medicine that would take away the years of childhood abuse both had suffered.

As he rocked the young woman that he'd come to think of as a grandchild in his arms, Niall wondered how humans—especially parents—could be so cruel. How could a mother do to Sookie what Michelle had done? How could a father do as Appius was doing? Niall had intuited that Eric and Appius didn't get along well. Hell—why else would Eric have spent all of his winter vacations while he was in college with Bobby in the cramped apartment his great-nephew had at the time, rather than in his father's home? Niall now knew that it was because Appius had not given Eric a home since Stella died.

Niall sighed. Years before he'd died, his nephew, Godric, had once told him that there was a boy in his school that his heart broke for, but Godric had never told him the name of that child. Godric had told him that Bobby had befriended this lonely child. However, there seemed to be a need to keep the child's identity and the friendship a secret so that there would not be retaliation by the father; thus, Niall had never initiated a discussion on the topic again.

Now all the pieces clicked, and Niall chastised himself for not seeing the clear picture before. That child had been Eric. Bobby and Eric hadn't become friends when they were young adults—as Niall had assumed. Eric had been the child that Godric had told him about those many, many years ago.

Niall closed his eyes and recalled the college-aged Eric, who had once spent a week with Bobby at Niall's home the winter that Bobby's apartment was undergoing some repairs.

Eric must have been nineteen or twenty then, a few years younger than Bobby. Eric had been so quiet and polite that it was as if he wasn't even there. Viola, Niall's wife, had still been alive then, and she and Niall had spoken about the guardedness of the young man—who was so unlike Bobby's other friends. Now Niall knew what Eric had been guarding against.

And Niall also now knew why Bobby was so intent upon keeping Ruby—or Sookie—safe. And now there was the child to consider too. And there was Eric. Niall shed a tear of his own as he thought about the little family that was unable to be together. Eric and Sookie had both been cheated out of family when they were younger, and he could tell that they were living a half-life without each other.

They both deserved so much better!

Niall vowed right then and there that he would use all of the influence he still possessed to help Sookie and Bobby accomplish their goal of bringing Appius Northman to his knees.

But, in that moment, he just wanted to comfort the forlorn girl in his arms—and reunite her with her beloved.

He could understand that secrecy was needed; however, there had to be a way to let Sookie and Eric safely spend time together, and Niall was determined to find it.

As Sookie continued to sob, Niall closed his eyes, and his mind wandered a little as he continued to rock her in his arms. The memory of an old family story his father had once told him came to his mind. He decided to tell it to Sookie, hoping that it would give her hope. After all, the story was quite similar to her own.

"You know," he started, "the name Sookie suits you. But as we've sat here, I've recalled a story about a young girl named Ruby. I would like to tell it to you—if you don't mind."

He felt her nod her permission against his chest.

"Well," he said, his distinctive voice soothing her, "my father, James, told me the story many, many years ago—must have been fifty years back. It concerned my father's older brother, Niall, for whom I was named. My father idolized his brother. That Niall, however, disappeared when he was twenty-seven years old; my father was seventeen at the time."

"Disappeared?" Sookie asked, her light sobbing having stopped as she listened to Niall's tale.

"Yes. You see, Niall fell in love—but with the wrong girl, at least according to my grandparents. They had a great fortune, and my uncle—their eldest son—was expected to marry a girl with a dowry and a position that would increase the family's prominence, but Niall's heart did not cooperate. He fell in love with a servant in the family estate, a beautiful young woman named Ruby."

A lump formed in Sookie's throat as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Niall continued. "That Niall decided to tell his parents of his affection for Ruby, hoping that they would see how devoted he was to her and allow them to marry. He even offered to step aside and allow my father to inherit the family wealth if his parents would let him follow his heart and marry the woman he loved. That Niall contemplated eloping, but it was his dearest wish that his parents would accept his beloved and treat her as family. He didn't want Ruby to think he was ashamed of her in any way."

Niall sighed. "But my grandparents were too tied to the underpinnings of social class to acknowledge the love between the two. They forbid my uncle from seeing Ruby, and—in the dead of the night—they shipped her off to the home of one of their acquaintances in the South. To add to the tragedy, she was with child when she left. My uncle never stopped looking for her though."

Even as Sookie was stunned into silence, Niall chuckled a little and then went on with his story. "My father said that his brother was the most stubborn man he'd ever known—and the kindest." His voice softened. "One night, my uncle snuck into my father's dorm at university to tell him goodbye. He said that their grandmother, who didn't give a damn about society and who thought that her son and daughter-in-law had behaved cruelly, had helped him to locate Ruby. And with the money he had saved and some more money and jewels that my great-grandmother had given him, he was going to sneak away and reunite with her. And that is just what he did. My father, though heart-broken that his beloved brother was leaving, didn't tell a soul, so it was more than a week before his parents knew that his brother was gone."

Niall exhaled deeply and continued, "It was several years after that when my father next heard from his brother—though that Niall asked that he keep the contact a secret and only tell his grandmother. Sadly, she had already passed away by then."

"Contact?" Sookie squeaked out, her body now shaking a little as she absorbed Niall's tale.

"Yes. That Niall sent only one letter to my father, telling him that he was safe and happy, but not saying where he'd gone. He shared that he and his Ruby were doing well and had changed their names. He sent a photograph of Ruby, himself, and two children—a little boy and an infant. My father tried to find his brother, but there was no return address on the letter, and Niall didn't give their new names. My father sent a private investigator to New Orleans, which was where the letter had originated from, but he never located them, and my uncle never wrote again."

Niall sighed. "But—you see—my uncle Niall and his Ruby were meant to be together—just as you are meant to be with your Eric. It took years for them to reunite, and she'd had a child in the meantime, but eventually things became as they should have been. You must trust in your fate, dear child," he said kissing her forehead.

Shaking even more now, Sookie removed herself from Niall's embrace and looked at the older man with shock on her face.

"What's wrong?" Niall asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Sookie didn't quite know what to say. "Can you excuse me—for just a minute? I need to get something from my room."

"Of course," Niall said, helping Sookie up.

"Will you wait here?" she asked quietly. "I need to show something to you."

He nodded. "Of course," he said again.

Sookie rushed as fast as she could to her room and got the letter that told of her ring's history. She wondered if it was possible that the Ruby in the letter and the Ruby in Niall's story could be the same person. However, all the details of the two Rubies fit: the timeline when the story's events happened, the fact that Ruby was pregnant when sent away, where she was sent, the initial "N," N's grandmother's help, the fact that they'd been in New Orleans for a while, the name changes, the number of children they'd had. Yes—it all fit.

She found the letter quickly—despite the fact that her head was spinning with so much new information. And then suddenly the whole world seemed to be spinning and she could feel herself falling. And then everything went black.


	4. The Best Medicine

Chapter 04: The Best Medicine

Five minutes later, Niall heard an almost ungodly howl from the hall and went to investigate. Little Ned had made the noise; he was next to Sookie, who was unconscious!

Having worked in hospitals and with doctors for much of his life, Niall was immediately terrified by the sight before him. Sookie was extremely pale and there was blood on the floor—quite a bit.

Immediately, Niall went into action. First, he called Ludwig, who was still on the estate. Then he called 9-1-1. And then he crouched next to Sookie, holding her hand and telling her to hang on and to be strong.

He tried not to think about the implications of the thick blood between her legs as he applied pressure to a cut on her temple.

Ludwig was there a few minutes after he'd called her and quickly assessed that Sookie—whom she still called Ruby, of course—and the baby were in trouble.

A lot of trouble.

The ambulance arrived only minutes after the doctor, and Niall rode with Sookie as she was taken to the nearest hospital. Dr. Ludwig also rode in the ambulance and immediately ushered Sookie back into an emergency treatment room when they arrived at the hospital.

When Niall tried to follow, Ludwig told him—in no uncertain terms—to stay out of the way so that she could work. Thus, Niall was relegated to the waiting room of a hospital that he had donated so much money to that it had been named after him: the Brigant Medical Center.

He huffed at not being able to be with Sookie. However, as he sat down, he realized that it was not he whom she needed.

He took his phone out of his pocket and made a call.

Eric sat on the bench looking at the Van Gogh painting—his and Sookie's Van Gogh painting. He focused on the golden wheat field before moving his eyes to the cypress trees.

Just as he'd done with Sookie, he visited the MET each Sunday. The visits were a time of respite for him; likely, they were what kept him sane. They allowed him to center himself after a week of pretending as if his world hadn't fallen apart.

And, most importantly, he felt even more connected to Sookie at the MET than he did anywhere else, especially now that Appius had found a way to put more surveillance equipment into his and Sookie's home.

So—each Sunday—he would go to the MET and then walk through the park, visiting all the places that he and Sookie had enjoyed going during their months together. And—in so doing—he would store up the strength he needed to get through another week.

Among some of the papers Sookie had left behind, Eric had found a list of all of the galleries that she'd already visited—in the order in which she'd visited them. She'd started going to the MET in March of 2011, well before Eric had known her as anything other than the owner of the golden hair which haunted his dreams.

He'd used the list and had followed the same order that she had, deciding to "catch up" as it were—to see the things that she had already seen and to speculate about which item in each gallery had prompted her to take her single picture. When he was done going down the list, he figured that he would begin drawing once more from the jar with the numbers of the galleries Sookie had not yet been to.

And—of course—during each of his Sundays, he would always visit their Van Gogh.

Sometimes several times.

He closed his eyes and imagined Sookie in Paris, exploring a new gallery of the Louvre each week. Or—perhaps—she was in London, roving through the British Museum. In truth, he had no idea where she might be, but he liked to fantasize about moments that might be occurring in her life.

Good moments. Moments that would cause her to smile.

He looked down at the sketch pad in his hands.

That morning he'd been to Gallery 903, a modern art gallery with works by Paul Klee and Henry Moore. Eric had found that he didn't care for modern art as much as he liked earlier works; however, he'd found appreciation for some of the sculptures by Moore. The sleekness of line in the sculptures, especially the one called "Two Forms," appealed to the architect in Eric, and he'd already begun designing a new chair, though he doubted if he would ever build it.

After all, it was a chair intended for two.

Eric sighed as he looked back up at the Van Gogh painting. He'd tried very hard to—at least—move on with his life, even though he couldn't move forward without Sookie. He'd thrown himself into his work, determined to make his division of NP bigger and more profitable than ever. In addition, some of his proposals to other department heads had even been okayed by Appius—with Clancy and Andre working as intermediaries between the two Northman men.

And, best of all, his engagement to Isabel seemed to have placated his father—for the time being, at least.

Eric had been to China twice since February, ostensibly to bolster NP's relationship with Guo Li and his team. However, on the first trip, Eric had told Guo all about Appius's threat, and he'd given the honorable businessman the chance to break their partnership.

Eric had already discovered that a clause had been added to the NP/Guangzhou Press deal that had not been in the original contract that they'd negotiated. The clause had been put in at the last minute from Guo's end, though it turned out that Guo hadn't known about it. The clause allowed for the directors of the partnered divisions—in other words, Eric and Guo—to reallocate their profits from the deal to other parts of their companies without oversight.

When Guo went to his superior, Wei Yang, it was confirmed that the clause had been added by him. Appius had contacted Mr. Yang shortly after Guo had arrived in the United States. Guo's director had believed Appius when he claimed that a new clause had been agreed upon by Eric and Guo and that Appius was informing Mr. Yang directly because he wished to personally express his respects and his hopes for the companies' future dealings. Appius had off-handedly asked that Mr. Yang make sure the changes he mentioned were added to the final draft of the contract. Mr. Yang had seen no reason to doubt the head of Northman Publishing. The legal team at the Chinese publishing house had no reason to question Mr. Yang. And the seemingly innocuous clause had slipped in.

Of course, Eric and Guo had gone through the contract so many times that the official signing of it was more ceremonial than anything else. And, since the final draft had come from the Chinese, Eric had had no reason to reexamine it. Neither Eric nor Guo had imagined that anything had been added without their knowledge.

After Eric and Guo had discovered the origin of the added clause, both had gone to work to figure out if anything else was amiss. Guo and Liang tracked the profits that their company had already made from the deal, and they soon found that some of the money had been filtered into some of Guo's other projects. From there, it looked as if that money had disappeared, but by digging, Liang found that the money had been put into two Cayman Islands accounts, one in Guo's name and one in Eric's name.

Guo had been—understandably—livid. Not only had he been inadvertently set up by his own superior, but also his honor, his livelihood, and his freedom had been threatened. Luckily, Mr. Yang had listened to Eric and Guo when they shared all their information with him during Eric's second visit to China. After that, the accounts in the Caymans were watched until more deposits were made. Those transactions were then traced to a mid-level employee at Guangzhou Press who had some expertise in hacking. It was then found out that the hacker had been employed by someone matching Franklin Mott's description; however, the only arrest made had been the hacker. Unfortunately, neither Mott nor Appius could be implicated in the matter.

To be frank, Eric hadn't cared that Appius couldn't be directly blamed. He was just glad that the matter had been contained before Guo, Liang, or Guangzhou Press was damaged.

The Cayman accounts had been closed, and all the money had been put back where it belonged. Since he was the official head of the international division at NP, Eric had been able to null the contract that Appius had had a hand in creating; then, he'd renegotiated with Liang, Guo, and Mr. Yang. Unfortunately, the incident had led to Mr. Yang wanting to scale back his company's ties with NP—at least until Eric took over as CEO and Appius was completely out of the picture. NP and Guangzhou Press were still doing a little work together, but it was on a much smaller scale than Eric had hoped for.

Despite that setback, Eric was glad that one of Appius's threats against him had been neutralized and that Appius couldn't hurt Guo, his team, or Guangzhou Press in the future. Eric had already looked through every other contract he'd worked on at NP with a fine-tooth comb. Luckily, he'd found no other irregularities, but he now did an internal audit of his division of NP every few weeks—just to be sure he protected his team. And, since he couldn't sleep much anymore anyway, he had plenty of time to devote to the extra work.

Miraculously, Guo and Mr. Yang hadn't black-balled NP and Eric throughout the rest of Asia, so despite the lessening of projects with Guangzhou Press, Eric had been able to keep all the members of his team employed and working on other things. Eric could only pray that Appius would keep his word to no longer interfere with him.

Unfortunately, Sophie-Anne had decided to throw an engagement party for Isabel and Eric, a party that she couldn't be talked out of—at least, according to Andre. Through Andre, Appius had informed Eric that he and Isabel would have to accept Sophie-Anne's "generous offer," but Appius had also assured that there would be no need for them to have any direct contact with each other at the party. Eric was grateful for that small favor. He just hoped that his cooperation would be enough to show his father that he was complying fully so that Appius would feel no further need to sabotage Eric at NP.

In fact, since January, the only direct contact between Eric and Appius had come in the form of an email, which Appius had sent to Eric after the contract with Guangzhou Press had been renegotiated. That email had been short and to the point: "I still own you. A battle is not the war."

Eric sighed as he continued to look at the swirling paint that reminded him so much of Sookie's golden hair. He was very much aware that the war had already been won by Appius.

"Eric?" a voice said, tearing him from his thoughts.

Eric looked to his side and saw Bobby standing there, his expression grave.

"I need you to come with me," Bobby said. "Sookie needs you."

Bobby Burham had once stared down the business end of a gun—held by a mobster with a death wish. Bobby had been so scared that he'd almost pissed his pants.

He'd been even more scared when his father had first told him that he had cancer—when Bobby was only twelve years old. Godric had fought and won against the cancer for years before finally succumbing to it, but Bobby had spent many a night frightened that he was going to lose his father—before he finally did.

But Bobby had never been as frightened as he was at the moment. Sookie, the woman who'd become like a little sister to him, had collapsed, and—according to Niall—she and her baby were both teetering between life and death.

The moment that Niall had called, Bobby had known that there was only one thing he could do. He had to tell one of the two most important people in his life that the woman he loved—the woman that Bobby had sworn would be safe—might not survive the day.

And he had to tell him that there was a child, too.

Somehow, Bobby knew that if Sookie died—and took Eric's child with her—his best friend in the world would follow soon after. He'd heard stories of people who'd seemingly died from broken hearts, and Bobby felt certain that his friend—his brother—was the kind of person who couldn't survive the death of his soul mate.

Bobby sighed heavily as he sat next to his great-uncle. He closed his eyes and gathered his courage to speak. "Do they know anything beyond what they knew before—about Sookie? The baby?"

"No," Niall said somberly—looking, for the first time, to be his real age. "Ludwig believes that Sookie may be suffering from preeclampsia; her blood pressure was slightly elevated this morning, but it was nothing major. But something must have happened . . . ." He paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "Preeclampsia generally doesn't develop until later in pregnancies, according to Ludwig, and Sookie is not quite 20 weeks along, which is when the earliest cases tend to happen, but the fetus is large for its age, so that might have something to do with it."

"And the blood on the floor?" Bobby asked in a strained voice. Telling Eric about that detail had been the hardest part.

"Ludwig is trying to use medicine to stop Sookie from having a miscarriage. As of half an hour ago, she still wasn't sure if it would work or if," Niall paused and exhaled raggedly, "either of them would survive."

Bobby closed his eyes tightly. "Thank you for having the helicopter meet us. I was afraid we'd be," he let out a sob, "too late."

"Don't think like that," Niall said gruffly. "Sookie and her child will be fine! She's a tough young woman. I know she'll be fine," he added, trying to sound more confident than afraid.

Bobby sighed. "And the wound on Sookie's head?"

"Ludwig says she hit her head pretty hard when she fell," Niall reported in almost a whisper. "She's definitely got a concussion, but Ludwig thinks it's a minor one. It's," he paused, "the least of our worries right now."

Bobby nodded and put his face into his hands; he bent forward until his elbows were on his knees. The two men were silent for a few minutes.

"I wish you would have told me about Sookie and Eric," Niall said. "Maybe I could have helped—put some pressure on Appius or something."

Bobby ran both of his hands through his hair as he looked at his great-uncle. "If I thought you could have helped, I would have told you. But Appius acts like a snake when he's threatened; he strikes to kill. Plus, some of the things Sookie and I are doing to try to entrap him aren't exactly legal."

Niall put his hand onto Bobby's knee and squeezed a little. "I am not the saint you seem to think I am," Niall said. "And as far as I can tell, Appius should be in prison for what he did to Eric when he was a child! Not to mention the blackmail he's currently using to keep Eric under his power."

Bobby sighed. "We figured that the fewer people who knew that Sookie was here, the better—at least for now." He shook his head and let out a sob. "It killed me to not be able to tell him—especially once Sookie found out she was pregnant. It killed me to watch Eric sink more and more into depression and resignation, even as I finally found someone to love."

"You? In love?" Niall asked in surprise.

Bobby nodded in affirmation. "She's an ex-Naval officer, and she's got two kids."

Niall smiled warmly. "And you love her? And the children?"

Bobby nodded. "Yes. The kids are part of the package, and Thalia's a wonderful mom—not to mention the fact that she's beautiful and brilliant. I can't see my life without her anymore."

"Have you told her that?" Niall asked.

"I'm waiting for the right time," Bobby said nervously.

Niall shook his head and squeezed Bobby's leg again. "We are all on this earth on borrowed time, Bobby. The right time is when you first feel it."

Bobby nodded, conceding the point to his great-uncle.

"How did Eric take the news about Sookie and the baby?" Niall asked, looking toward the door leading to the NICU, where Eric had disappeared with a nurse ten minutes before.

Bobby sighed deeply. "He hasn't said a word to me since we got onto the helicopter."

Niall put his arm around Bobby. "You told him everything?"

Bobby nodded. "Yes. I told him that Sookie and I have been working to try to find enough information to stop Appius for good. I told him about the baby and about how Sookie decided not to tell him because she feared Appius would use their child against him." He sighed. "I just hope that Eric doesn't hate me for keeping this from him. But—if Sookie or the baby dies—he won't need to forgive me because I won't forgive myself."

Niall squeezed Bobby's shoulder. "You and Sookie were both operating under impossible conditions. So was Eric."

"He's the best friend I've ever had," Bobby said in a low voice. "He's a brother to me."

"I imagine he feels the same."

"I hope so," Bobby said.

Both men became silent again—this time for at least half an hour; in his own way, each of the men was praying for the welfare of the family behind the NICU doors. They perked up as they heard the door to the NICU open and the diminutive figure of Dr. Ludwig approach.

"Your cure—it seems—is better than mine," the doctor said in her nasally tone.

Bobby and Niall both looked at her in confusion.

Ludwig glared at them as if they should have been able to read her mind.

"Five minutes after he went in there, her blood pressure started to stabilize, and the baby's heart rate is now rising toward where it needs to be," she said tersely.

"Has the medicine stopped her labor?" Niall asked.

Dr. Ludwig shrugged. "Her labor has halted, but—whether that was from the medicine or his presence—I could not tell you."

"But she's going be okay?" Bobby asked hopefully. "They're going to be okay?"

"That's not what I said," Dr. Ludwig answered somewhat impatiently. "But things look better now."

"Is Sookie awake?" Niall asked.

"No," Dr. Ludwig responded. "That little body of hers has gone through quite a bit of trauma today, and we'll need to monitor her and make sure her blood pressure stays down. Plus, I still want to give her some type-specific blood, but she's B-negative, and there's none in the hospital's blood bank. I'm having some sent over from . . . ."

"I'm B-negative," Bobby interrupted.

"As am I," Niall informed.

Ludwig looked at both men in front of her with a tilt of her head. "Good—she can have yours then. I'll walk you down to someone who can take your blood."

Bobby and Niall both rose to their feet.

"So—uh—Ruby is going to be okay once she gets the blood?" Bobby asked.

"It should strengthen her—yes," the doctor said. "We've given her some O-neg and plasma already, but she lost quite a bit of blood when she hemorrhaged; however, she's hanging in there. It's a real miracle that she's still carrying her child, given the amount of blood she lost." Ludwig chuckled a little. "That little baby is a fighter—tenacious and damned stubborn. I've never seen one survive the kind of trauma he went through today."

"He's like his parents," Bobby said as a tear made its way down his cheek, "a survivor."


	5. Magic

Chapter 05: Magic

"Love and magic have a great deal in common. They enrich the soul, delight the heart. And they both take practice."—Nora Roberts

ERIC POV

Eric couldn't stop glancing at all the machines and tubes in the room. The only other time he'd ever been in a hospital room had been the night that Gran had died, yet there were more machines in this room than there had been in Gran's. There were several tubes in Sookie's arms. And there were monitors everywhere.

He positioned his chair so that his face was as close to Sookie's as possible—as if he could will the very oxygen from his body into hers. And his eyes moved from her beautiful, though pale, face; to the monitor showing her vital signs; to another monitor showing another set of vital signs.

Using his peripheral vision, Eric could see that the short doctor tending to Sookie had come back into the room. She was followed by a nurse carrying a bag of blood.

"Is this real?" Eric asked the doctor, as the nurse replaced a bag labeled "plasma" with the blood. His voice sounded far away, even to his own ears. "Is she really here? Is she really carrying my child?"

DR. LUDWIG POV

Dr. Ludwig couldn't help but to note the disbelief in the young man's face—and the absolute love. She'd seen a lot of reactions from men who had just found out that they were going to be fathers. And she'd seen a lot of reactions from people who were frightened that they might lose their loved ones. But this man looked different. There was gratefulness mixed with the fear on his face. There was resolve mixed with turmoil. In some ways it looked as if he were seeing a ghost. But, in other ways, his expression indicated that he was looking upon the origin of life itself.

Dr. Amy Ludwig was not what anyone might call "sweet" or sentimental, and no one had ever accused her of having a good bed-side manner. As a woman entering the medical field in the 1970s, she'd needed to be as tough as nails—so she'd resolved to be even tougher.

And sharper.

She was abrupt and no-nonsense; she was crass and rude. However, her patients loved her because she told them the truth and she did her best to keep them and their children alive.

And her best was the best that there was.

Before it had even been an established specialty, she had specialized in neo-natal care, focusing mostly on premature infants who didn't give a fuck if she was nice to them or not. Indeed, her littlest patients were her favorites; they didn't need explanations, and they didn't undermine their own treatments by questioning her. All their energy was focused on one thing—staying alive.

Yes—Amy Ludwig had been a pioneer in the care of premature children. With Niall's funding and support, she had developed much of the equipment that had helped to save the lives of countless infants since the 1980s. Of course, she'd lost a lot of children too—which was why she continued to push herself and her research forward. But, sometimes, a child entered the world before she could save him or her, despite Dr. Ludwig's best efforts.

When she'd seen Ruby Jones on the floor of Niall's home earlier that day, blood coating her thighs and blood pressure skyrocketing, she would have bet a lot of money that the child was already beyond her power to save. He was simply too young to survive outside of his mother's womb. Frankly, the doctor had simply been hoping to save the mother at that point.

And—because of situations like that—she'd learned to distance her emotions from her patients a long time before Niall had asked her to take care of his pregnant "ward," Ruby Jones.

Ruby had struck Dr. Ludwig as a quiet young woman—shy even—but Ruby had followed directions well, and Dr. Ludwig had appreciated that. In the early months of her pregnancy, Ruby hadn't been gaining enough weight, but as soon as Dr. Ludwig had read her the riot act, she'd changed her ways. Still—it wasn't as if the doctor's heart had gone out to the young woman.

However, the young man who had walked into Ruby's hospital room ninety minutes earlier had elicited the doctor's compassion. He'd strode in with purpose and had picked up Ruby's hand and sat next to her as if he were literally ready to allow all of her pain to flow right into his own body.

Yes—somehow he had managed to endear himself to Dr. Ludwig from the first moment she'd seen him. There was a sense of calm about him—not confidence so much, but steadiness. Dr. Ludwig recognized the man as a natural father and—though she was not one to pray much—she said a quick prayer that the man would get the chance to be a father to the child valiantly fighting to stay inside of the safety of his mother's womb.

"She is carrying a son," Dr. Ludwig volunteered, responding to the young man's earlier words.

The man smiled. "Min son," he whispered with an accent that sounded Scandinavian to the doctor.

ERIC POV

"Will you tell me what all of these things are—what they do?" Eric asked, gesturing toward the tubes even though his eyes stayed on Sookie's face.

"These two are giving her medicine," Dr. Ludwig said, gesturing toward Sookie's IV.

"What medicines?" Eric asked.

"There's one to bring down her blood pressure and one to keep her sedated so that she can rest. And this, obviously, is blood," she said as she pointed to another line going into Sookie vein. "We started off giving her some O-neg and then plasma, but now we are giving her type-specific blood. I usually try to limit transfusions for pregnant women, but—in this case—she needs it so that she can regain her strength as soon as possible."

Eric nodded in acknowledgment, even as a deep frown of concern etched his features. "And the bandage on her head?" he asked.

"When she fell earlier, she obviously used her hands to protect the baby, so her head took quite a hit," the doctor sighed. "Luckily, the abrasion on her head isn't that deep, but she does have a minor concussion."

"And her wrist?"

Ludwig glanced at Sookie's right wrist. "Fractured in the fall. But it's not too bad. As I said, from the position of her body when I found her, it seems that she was trying to prevent her fall from creating an impact on your child."

Eric smiled a little and smoothed the hair from Sookie's forehead. He couldn't help but to notice that there was still a trace of blood in it. "She was born to be a mother," he said softly.

The doctor didn't speak for a moment as Eric reverently stroked Sookie's cheek.

"And the other machines? What are they for, Doctor—uh . . . . Sorry, I don't know your name."

"I'm Dr. Amy Ludwig."

"I'm Eric," he said.

The doctor nodded and pointed to the little suction-cup devices on Sookie's body. "All these are electrodes. They are helping us to monitor Ruby's heart-rate. And this cuff," she added, pointing to the blood pressure sleeve, "is keeping us abreast of her blood pressure at all times. This monitor is telling us all we need to know about her condition."

Eric glanced up at the monitor. "And what is it telling you about Sookie?"

DR. LUDWIG POV

The doctor didn't even bat an eyelash at the man using a different name than Ruby. She'd never been one to ask questions that were none of her business.

"It's telling me that her blood pressure is now stable at 130 over 95. I'll feel better when the lower number is below 85, but it's better than it was when you walked in."

"And her heart?"

"It's good. No irregular beating now."

Eric nodded and sighed with relief. "And my son?" he asked, the emotion clear in his voice.

Dr. Ludwig pointed to another monitor. "This is him."

"And the number? The 117?"

"That's his heart rate. It's a bit slow, but it's approaching normal again. It was quite a bit lower earlier, but since you got here, it's stabilized and strengthened."

Taking in the doctor's information, Eric nodded.

Dr. Ludwig pointed to the strap around Ruby's—or Sookie's—stomach. "This is how we are monitoring him, but I have to do an ultrasound now to check on your son's movement. Would you like to see him?"

Eric glanced at the doctor quickly and then back down at Sookie. "Yes. Please." He took a breath. "Has Sookie seen him?"

Ludwig nodded. "Yes. She saw him just this morning when I told her that she was having a boy. She's only at four and a half months, but your child is more the size of a five-month-old, so it was possible to tell the gender."

"Was she happy about it being a boy?" Eric asked looking at Sookie with a sense of awe in his eyes.

"Yes. And she was even happier when I told her that he looked strong and healthy and that he had a strong heart. That heart is what pulled him through today. That and your coming," the doctor added with certainty.

A tear fell down Eric's cheek as he seemed to grasp Sookie's hand more firmly.

"Would you like to hear your son's heart?" Dr. Ludwig asked.

Unable to say anything, Eric nodded as the doctor turned on the sound from the fetal monitor.

More tears fell from Eric eyes as he heard the symphony of heartbeats that his son was producing.

"We'll step out for a minute," the doctor said, motioning to her nurse. She wanted nothing more than to leave the young man alone to enjoy the sound of his son's steadying heartbeat.

ERIC POV

Even as he listened to his son's heart, Eric was running numbers in his head. He didn't have a great deal of liquid assets, but if he sold his home and emptied his accounts, he could split the money between his team at work so that they would have something while they looked for other jobs if Appius really did dissolve his division as he'd threatened.

His new contract with Guo ensured that the company in China would be fine. There was even a new clause that said that they could back out of the deal without penalty if Eric wasn't the point-man.

If Mormor sold the NP stock in her name, she would have enough money to live off of. However, she would be heartbroken to have to leave her home. Eric sighed deeply.

The sale of the old Stackhouse property had gone through and could maintain Remy Savoy if he lost his job, and Eric knew that Remy didn't have many expenses since he was using experimental medicines. Eric somehow knew that Appius would threaten Remy's place in the clinical trial he was in, but he prayed that Niall might be able to help with that. Hadley had actually had a bit of life insurance too—from a policy that had been bought by her mother, so Hunter and Remy would be okay, at least until Eric could figure out something else.

He knew that Pam would be difficult to protect, but maybe Russell would hire her at Vibrant, and maybe Bobby could defend her if Appius actually tried to have her arrested.

Eric thought for a moment. "I will take the blame for anything that Pam is accused of," he said quietly to himself. He nodded in resolution. "I'll simply say that I manipulated Pam into doing wrong without her knowing it. And I'll say the same if Sookie is accused," he added with another nod of his head.

Eric sighed, wondering if Appius had more ammunition to hold over his head. Michelle Stackhouse would certainly publish her book. And his mother's name would be dragged through the mud. Eric had no doubt that his father would continue to try to harm everyone he cared about, but Eric couldn't fathom the idea of leaving Sookie's side now. He couldn't marry another—not even Isabel. He couldn't keep going through his life as if he were the undead—not when Sookie had literally brought life into his world through his son.

He moved his hand gently over the bump on Sookie's belly.

"Min son," he said softly. "I will do everything I can to protect you and your mother—even if that means I have to be in prison for a long time."

Eric closed his eyes. He was determined. He would take anything that Appius dished out. He would admit to all illegalities. He would insist that Pam—and even Sookie—testify against him. He would admit to being the mastermind behind anything illegal that Appius could drum up—so that he was the only one who would be imprisoned.

He would lose his home. He would lose his job and his profession. He would lose his freedom. He would probably lose the respect of all of his colleagues—and his employees when he failed to protect their jobs. His family—Pam, Mormor, and Alexei—might turn their backs on him once they found out that he had failed to shield them from harm. Eric knew that Appius would drag him and everyone around him through hell. But he was prepared to take on the guilt of the others' suffering.

But he couldn't lose the woman and the child in the bed in front of him.

He had no idea how he would financially support the two people he loved the most after he gave away all he had in order to try to help the other people whom Appius was bound to hurt. But even if he had to work at a McDonald's eighty hours a week, he would find a way to take care of Sookie and his son.

And—if he were in prison—he would ask Bobby to look after Sookie. And—somehow, someday—he would find a way to pay Bobby back.

Yes—he would exchange the prison of his father's cruelty for a prison of steel bars. But he would also claim his beloved and their child as he own—even if it meant losing everything else!

How could he do otherwise?

And it wasn't even just because of the baby, though the child was a huge part of why Eric wouldn't let himself give his family up again. No—it was because Sookie had stayed behind to help him.

To try to rescue him.

The emotion that gesture caused in Eric was too much for him to deal with in that moment. It was too much for him to believe.

"Are you ready to see your son now?" Dr. Ludwig asked, interrupting Eric's thoughts. She was trailed into the room by the same nurse as before, who immediately checked the dripping of the various fluids going into Sookie's body.

Eric nodded as the nurse readied a machine. Dr. Ludwig pulled a stool from under the bed and climbed onto it. She did it so quickly that Eric had barely noticed her doing it.

"I suppose there must be drawbacks to being so tall too," the doctor said with a smirk as she saw Eric eyeing her stool.

"Yeah," he answered without hesitation. "From the time I was fourteen to the time I was twenty-five, I never slept in a bed that was long enough." He chuckled as he looked back at Sookie. "I always woke up with something hanging off the bed or something sore."

"Never had that problem myself," Dr. Ludwig remarked as she began to prepare Sookie's belly for the ultrasound. "In fact, being this short has a lot of benefits."

"Like what?" Eric asked his voice indicating his sincere curiosity.

The doctor winked at him. "I am usually in a room well before others realize it," she chuckled. "And—trust me—that can come in handy."

Eric nodded. "I can believe it." His own height made him much more conspicuous than he'd like to be most of the time.

"We're ready, Dr. Ludwig," the nurse said pleasantly. Eric noticed that she had an Indian accent.

Dr. Ludwig glared at her a little, though the nurse just smiled wider as she handed the doctor the ultrasound wand. Immediately, Eric's eyes were drawn toward the 3-D image of his child on the monitor as the doctor moved the wand into position.

"Oh my God!" Eric gasped as he saw the detailed figure of his son come into view.

Dr. Ludwig's face relaxed a little. "He's still where we want him to be in the uterus." She pointed to the image as she moved the wand a little. "And the placenta is looking healthy." She nodded and spoke with some certainly, "The medicine has worked to stop Ruby's labor, and the baby is stable. We'll do another ultrasound in a few hours, but Ruby and your son are okay—for now."

Eric looked at the doctor with concern in his eyes. "For now?"

"Yes," Dr. Ludwig said. "If everything goes well, we'll keep her here for several more days; then, we'll get her started on some medicine to help keep her blood pressure controlled for the duration of her pregnancy. She has preeclampsia, which is not uncommon, especially for a woman's first pregnancy, but we'll need to keep an eye on it."

"Will they be okay?" Eric asked.

"That depends," Dr. Ludwig responded.

"On what?"

"I think it depends on you," the doctor said honestly.

Eric looked at her in question. "I'll do anything."

Dr. Ludwig half-smirked and half-smiled. "I imagine you would."

"What do I need to do?" Eric asked, his voice begging.

Dr. Ludwig glanced at the nurse, whose nametag read Indira, and then back at Eric.

"I specialize in the treatment of premature babies," the doctor said, "and I have dealt with many cases where a child or a mother's life was balanced on the tip of a sword. In times like that, I use all my knowledge and all my skill to save everyone I can, but I find that I am not the difference in those cases." She looked at the image of the child on the screen. "It is the inherent strength within the child or the mother that determines most of the outcomes. But sometimes, there is something more."

Indira smiled. "जादू," she said in Hindi. [Author's note: From what I can tell from one of my friends, who speaks Hindi, this word sounds like this: "jaadu." Sorry if I'm wrong. I don't know anything about this language—other than that it's beautiful to listen to.]

Eric looked at the nurse in question.

"Magic," Indira translated. "It is determined by magic."

Dr. Ludwig didn't glare at her nurse when she looked at her this time. "Damned right, it's magic," she agreed. The diminutive doctor looked back at Eric. "And it seems that in this case, your presence was all the magic that was needed to help Ruby and the baby. Before you got here, her blood pressure wouldn't stabilize and the medicine wasn't working as well as I'd hoped. The baby was barely hanging in there, and I was afraid that his placenta would rupture and that we'd lose him."

Eric's eyes filled with fear.

Dr. Ludwig put her hand on his arm comfortingly. "But none of that is happening any longer. You walked into this room, and this girl somehow knew you were here. You walked into this room, and both she and your son found the extra bit of fight they needed."

"That is the magic," Indira said almost triumphantly.

Dr. Ludwig nodded. "Yes. I have studied medicine for a long time, and I am the best at what I do," she added without arrogance. "Moreover, my own mother and grandmother were midwives, so I started my education that way. But—in the end—many things are still beyond my power and my knowledge." She chuckled. "And I'm glad of that too!"

"Glad?" Eric asked.

"Less pressure," Indira said with a smirk that was met with the doctor's glare.

Eric smiled a little. "It must be nice to know you have help sometimes," he directed at the doctor.

Dr. Ludwig looked at Eric sincerely. "It is." She sighed. "I sense that you and this young woman have a strong connection, and she needs that right now in order to take care of your child. I also know that you have not been with her when I have examined her at Niall's home. Seeing you here, I intuit that being separated was not something either of you chose, and I hope—for the sake of you all—that you will not have to be separated again," she added seriously.

"We won't be," Eric vowed firmly, looking at his son and then his beloved. "I won't let us be—not like we have been. No matter what," he finished quietly.

Dr. Ludwig nodded at the young man's resolve. "Good. Ruby's pregnancy . . . ," she started.

Eric interrupted her. "Are you bound by confidentiality?" he asked both the doctor and nurse.

Dr. Ludwig raised her eyebrow. "Well—we make exceptions, such as the fact that you are in here and learning of her condition even though I had to take Niall's word that you were indeed the father of this child." She chuckled. "So I would say that we are bound by our patients' needs more than anything else."

Eric nodded at the physician. "She's been in hiding, but her name's not Ruby. It's Sookie. Can you call her that when no one else is around?"

The doctor nodded and then picked up her previous thought without missing a beat. "Based on the last time Sookie had her period, which was in early January, her pregnancy is at about 20 weeks."

Eric thought back. "Yeah," he confirmed.

Dr. Ludwig nodded. "Your son is larger than usual, but seeing you, I'm not surprised. Do you know how big you were when you were born?"

"My grandmother once told me that I was almost ten pounds."

"Good," Dr. Ludwig said. "Hopefully, this one will take after you and develop quickly. Normal pregnancies last around 40 weeks."

Eric looked down at Sookie with concern in his eyes. "Only half way there. Will they make it?" he asked in barely a whisper.

Ludwig patted his arm again. "Since you have me, they won't need to get that far. At 25 weeks, there's a 50% survival rate. And things keep getting better from there. If Sookie and the baby can get through the next ten hours or so, and if we can keep her blood pressure stable for the next month or two, then we can all breathe easier. After that, we'll keep this little one inside of her for as long as possible—ideally until he's about 35 to 37 weeks old. After that, we can perform a cesarean to limit the chance of trauma for either of them."

Eric nodded, though concern still clouded his eyes.

"Would you like some pictures before I turn off the image?" Dr. Ludwig asked.

"Please," Eric said, his emotion clear. "Thank you, Dr. Ludwig."

"Amy," the doctor said, surprising everyone in the room. "You can call me Amy."

Eric nodded. "Okay, Amy. Thank you."

The doctor nodded and smiled, though her expression changed as she looked over at Indira. "I'm still Doctor Ludwig to you."

Indira chuckled and then looked at Eric. "I'll have two copies made since I don't think Sookie had a chance to see a 3D image like this."

"Good," Dr. Ludwig said, snapping several pictures and then handing the wand to Indira. She looked at her nurse. "You're on a 12-hour shift—correct?"

Indira nodded. "Yes. I'll be on until 2:00 a.m."

"I want you to be Sookie's primary nurse while she's here. Who are you rotating with?"

"For the next three days, Chow and I will be rotating our patients," Indira responded.

Ludwig nodded with satisfaction and looked at Eric. "Chow is somewhat crabby, but he's good. Indira will make sure that he understands that we are to call the patient Sookie in private and Ruby if there are orderlies or lab techs present. And my resident, Mindy, will be informed as well. Mindy is the fiancé of one of Niall's security officers, so she will keep your confidence as well."

"Thank you," Eric said sincerely.

"And," Dr. Ludwig said, "Indira will also make it clear to everyone that you will be allowed to stay with Sookie at all times possible."

Indira smiled. "Hospital visiting hours are usually ending about now, but we make exceptions in the neonatal ward. I'll have a bed brought in for you—if you want."

Eric shook his head. "No—I want to stay right next to her."

Indira grinned. "That's what a lot of the dads say."

Ludwig winked at Eric. "If she remains stable, Indira can bring in an extra hospital bed and put it right next to Sookie's bed for you."

The Indian nurse giggled, "I'll even lower the rails in the middle so that it's more like one bed."

"Thanks," Eric said.

"Just warning you now, though," Dr. Ludwig said with a twinkle in her eye, "the bed's going to be too short."


	6. Therapy

Chapter 06: Therapy

Eric had left Sookie's side only once—when his bladder felt like it might explode. But he'd done his business as fast as he could before rushing back to Sookie's bed. If his presence was helping her and their baby, then he didn't plan on leaving them unless he absolutely had to. Eric had arrived a little before 3:00 p.m. At about 7:00 p.m., he heard a familiar voice at the door of the room.

"Do you mind a little company?" Claudine asked.

Eric looked up at his therapist. He'd continued to see her every week after Sookie left, and he knew that she was one of the reasons why he'd not fallen apart during his separation from his beloved.

"No," Eric said, gesturing toward the only other chair in the room.

Claudine touched Sookie's arm lightly. "Hello, Sookie," she said softly before sitting down. "She hasn't woken up at all yet?"

"Not yet," Eric replied. "They were giving her medicine to keep her sedated. But they think she'll wake up in the next few hours."

The therapist sighed with relief, but then was silent for a few minutes as she studied the monitors.

"I knew about her being with Niall," Claudine finally said.

"Bobby told me," Eric returned quietly.

"Bobby's beating himself up out there for not telling you about Sookie and the baby. I can't say that I'm not doing the same." She sighed. "It was difficult keeping it from you, and I'm used to having to operate according to the rules of doctor-patient confidentiality. But you and Sookie are much more than patients to me; you have become dear friends."

Eric sighed deeply, "I admit that part of me was very angry when Bobby told me. It was easier than dealing with the fear that I might lose them." He ran his free hand through his hair and took a deep breath. "But Sookie and Bobby were right. I would have tried to stop her from helping. And then Bobby would have sent her off to God knows where. She would have been all alone when she found out she was pregnant—instead of being with Niall. And if she had been alone when the preeclampsia started, God only knows what may have happened." His voice was strained. "She could have died. The baby could have died. But she wasn't alone. Will you thank your grandfather for me?"

Claudine nodded in affirmation and then leaned forward. "For the record—it killed Sookie to keep the baby a secret from you."

Eric pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes tightly. "Appius would have tried to use our child, just like everything else I've ever loved. He will try to use him," he said with a sigh. "I know why she did what she did. I don't blame her."

"For what it's worth, Sookie was planning to tell you before the birth—no matter what. Isabel told Bobby about the arrangement you two made, so Sookie knew that you were planning to marry Isabel in mid-October." Claudine sighed. "That's also right around the time when the baby is due. Sookie planned to have Bobby bring you to Niall's home on the last Sunday in August—whether they'd found out enough to adequately incriminate Appius or not."

Eric exhaled deeply. "I just wish Sookie hadn't needed to go through all of this. I wish that there had been no need for her to keep it from me—to take all of this on herself."

"We all do," Claudine said.

"The stress of it almost . . . ." His voice trailed off as he looked over at Sookie's pale face.

"I know," Claudine whispered.

They were silent for a few minutes.

"You've been coming to see her since she got to the Hamptons?" Eric asked.

"Yeah," Claudine responded. "We were able to carry on with her therapy."

Eric nodded. "That's good."

"That's why I'm here now; I was driving up for our usual appointment and to have dinner with Sookie and Niall."

Eric nodded and looked at the time. "Could you send Bobby back?" he requested.

Claudine smiled. "Sure," she said, getting up and fondly patting Sookie's arm one last time before leaving the room.

"Claudine says that you don't hate me," Bobby said as he walked to Sookie's bedside and bent down to kiss her cheek. "But she's an optimist and a shrink, so I'd rather hear that from you."

"I don't hate you," Eric said quietly. "You did what I couldn't; you kept her safe." He sighed. "I cannot imagine anywhere that she would be safer than with Niall. Thank you," he looked up at his friend. "And I know why you didn't tell me, but . . . ." He stopped midsentence.

"But?" Bobby asked.

"But—I would still punch you in the fucking nose if it weren't for the fact that Sookie would be pissed," he said with a little smirk.

Bobby sat down heavily. "I wouldn't stop you or blame you. In fact, I'm pretty sure that Thalia will do the job for you when she finds out that I've been keeping Sookie's pregnancy from her too."

"So Thalia knows about Sookie being at Niall's?" Eric asked.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. She's been helping me get video for Sookie to watch. Sookie's been reading Appius's and Andre's lips—as well as anyone with whom they're associating. She's why we knew about Debbie Pelt and the surveillance equipment. We've learned some other things too, but nothing that nails the lid down on Appius's coffin."

"Is that your goal?" Eric asked, sitting forward a little.

"Our goal was to come up with enough information to send Appius to prison for a very long time. Our goal was to force Appius to leave you and everyone else you care about alone. But we were going to leave it up to you regarding whether to turn over the information we gathered to the authorities or to blackmail the hell out of Appius."

Eric was silent for a moment. "She's so brave."

"She loved you too much to leave you behind," Bobby said with admiration. "This was all her idea. And even if it would have taken years to get Appius where we wanted him, she was willing to work to do it. But the baby changed everything." Bobby paused. "You should know that she was planning to tell you before your child was born."

"Claudine told me," Eric said quietly.

Bobby sighed. "What do you want me to do? I asked Thalia to go to your house and make some noise in the kitchen—like you were fixing food. And then she went and typed on your computer for a while, but the video camera in your bedroom complicates things."

"I won't leave Sookie and the baby," Eric said. "Not now. The doctor said that they," he paused, "got better once I got here."

"I know," Bobby sighed. "Eric," he paused, "I'm ready to storm into your house and rip the goddamned camera down myself if you want. I've never practiced law in a courtroom, but I'm ready to do anything I can to defend you and Pam and Sookie if Appius releases the evidence he has. Or I'm ready to have some of my associates put a bomb into Appius's car—if you want to go that route. Anything you want—anything."

Eric contemplated for a moment and then got up from his chair. He walked over to Bobby and embraced him.

"I love you, brother," Eric said quietly.

"I know," Bobby responded as he patted Eric's back.

Eric broke their embrace and stepped back. "I still want to slug you."

Bobby lifted his hands up as if in defeat. "I've heard that's what brothers do sometimes," he smirked.

"Later," Eric said before returning to sit next to Sookie.

"What do you want me to do?" Bobby asked as if in battle mode.

Eric looked at Bobby and took a deep breath. "I won't be leaving Sookie and the baby—not until Appius has me arrested."

Bobby took a deep breath and nodded in understanding.

"I'm going to liquidate my accounts and sell my house," Eric said. "Can you help me with that?"

Bobby nodded again.

"I'll make that money available for the people in my division. It won't make up for the fact that they'll all likely get fired by Appius without notice, but it's something."

"But then you'll be left with nothing," Bobby frowned.

"Not nothing," Eric said, looking at Sookie. "And Mormor should sell her NP stock. I'm sure she would appreciate your help too. Once Appius learns that I intend to break the contract, it won't be long before he takes control of my trust fund and, therefore, her home."

Bobby sunk into his chair and pressed his fingers against his forehead.

"Would you ask Niall if he would look into Remy Savoy's case?" Eric asked.

"Remy? Hunter's father?"

"Yes. Appius has threatened to make sure he gets fired from his job. I know Remy's got some money saved, but I'm mostly worried that Appius will do something to get him kicked out of the experimental drug treatment he's on for his HIV."

Bobby shook his head. "I won't argue that Appius isn't cruel enough to do that."

Eric nodded. The two were silent for a moment.

"Before this is over," Eric said, "I will probably be in prison. And I need you to do some things for me."

"Eric—no. I will make sure . . . ."

"No," Eric interrupted. "I want you helping Pam and Sookie. Appius has some kind of false evidence against them too. As soon as we know what that is, I want you to help them make deals with the district attorney. Blake can help us with that. I want Pam and Sookie to blame me for coercing them or blackmailing them into whatever wrongdoing Appius accuses them of."

"Eric, they won't . . . ."

"They're going to have to," Eric interrupted again. "It needs to be me that takes the fall for any crimes. Yes—Pam will be hurt by all of this, but I know Isabel or Russell will give her a job. And—Sookie—well, she'll understand that this has to be done for her sake and the baby's." Eric raked his hand through his hair. "I need you to make sure they're okay—safe from Appius—once I'm in prison. I know it's a lot to ask now that you have Thalia and the kids in your life, but . . . ."

"But nothing," Bobby said. "It's done."

Eric sighed with relief.

"I still don't think Pam or Sookie would be willing to testify against you in open court," Bobby said.

Eric took a long breath. "It won't come to that. I intend to plead guilty to both their supposed crimes and mine." He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but Godric's name will likely be pulled through the mud."

Bobby put his hand up. "It doesn't matter. My father thought of you as a second son. He would want you to do what it took to be happy. But, Eric, you might not have to go to jail if . . . ."

"No," Eric interrupted, "once Appius realizes I'm no longer complying, he'll come at me with everything he has. I can't imagine a scenario where he lets me out of the contract unscathed." He sighed. "And my going to prison would likely be enough to satisfy him—at least to a certain extent. As long as I can keep Pam and Sookie from facing criminal prosecution, I'll consider it a victory. I just wish . . . ." He stopped midsentence.

"Wish what?"

"I wish I could protect them all," Eric said with anguish. "Appius will hurt everyone he can. Sookie, Mormor, Pam, Remy, Hunter, my team at NP, you. Hell! He even threatened Alexei's acting career!"

"We'll do everything we can to stop him," Bobby promised.

Eric nodded and tried to smile. "We'll try. But making sure that Sookie and our son get through this is my priority now. I can't . . . ." he paused. "I won't leave them voluntarily—not ever again. And I want as much of the stress of this kept from her as possible," he said, gazing at her sleeping face.

Bobby scoffed. "You can't keep anything from her."

Eric sighed. "I know. But I can try to take the stress of it onto myself."

Bobby nodded.

"Meanwhile, let's try to keep Appius in the dark as long as possible," Eric sighed. "Have Thalia tell Henry and Blake what's going on. If possible, have one of them go into the kitchen, living room, or office every few hours. There have been several nights when I haven't gone to bed or even used my and Sookie's bathroom. Let Appius wonder what's up for now."

"And tomorrow?" Bobby asked. "What about work?"

"I'm taking a sick day. From there—well—I'll decide after Sookie is awake," Eric said, looking down at his beloved.

Bobby moved toward the door. "You know I love you too—right? You are my family."

Eric nodded and looked up at Bobby. "Of course I know; you are going to be godfather to my son, after all."

Bobby's eyes brightened with moisture even as his lips twitched into a little smile. "It would be an honor," he said, his voice catching with emotion.


	7. Kicking

Chapter 07: Kicking

Sookie first became aware of something beeping.

Then she felt a pressure on her upper arm and a whirring sound. The noise was vaguely familiar to her—like one of those free blood pressure machines in a pharmacy chain. The sound helped to explain the pressure on her arm, so she put her focus into trying to regain control of her other senses even as her mind slowly woke up.

Her eyes, at first, had trouble opening, and when they did, she was certain that she was dreaming. Or maybe she'd died. Her hand—at least the one that seemed free—immediately went to her belly, finding it as rounded as it had been before. However, there was also something weighty on her wrist—a splint? She couldn't quite figure out why she would have one of those, but she was grateful that her fingers could still feel the swell of her belly.

She blinked a few times in surprise and then closed her eyes tightly before opening them again.

The sight she'd seen before was still there; Eric was sleeping in the bed next to her. He was facing her, and though she could tell that there would be shadows under his eyes when he opened them, he was still the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

She tried to turn her body toward him, but quickly realized that she was being prevented by something. She glanced at her right arm and saw that two tubes were connected to her body—in addition to the blood pressure cup. Indeed, her right wrist did have a splint on it. She cringed a little and then looked over at her left hand, held safely in Eric's grip.

In the next moment, she found herself breathing a sigh of relief even as there was a slight kick against the fingers of her right hand, which were still resting over her son. Without thought, she pulled Eric's hand with her left one and placed it over the movement.

She kept her eyes on Eric's closed lids as his hand opened over her distended abdomen.

Eric became slowly aware of an odd feeling against his palm—a kind of fluttering and then something a little more firm like a tap. He had been sleeping lightly, falling in and out of awareness since Indira had made good on her promise and had rolled in a bed matching Sookie's. It had then been placed flush against Sookie's so that he could rest beside her. As soon as he'd lain down, he had decided to file away the name "Indira" for when Sookie and he had a girl.

His thought about his children with Sookie made something click in his mind, and suddenly, he knew exactly what he was feeling. His eyes popped open to see Sookie's beautiful blues looking back at him.

"Hi," she said, somewhat weakly.

"Hi," he responded, pressing his hand a little more firmly against her belly, though he was careful not to press too hard.

Their eyes stayed locked for several minutes, neither of them speaking—as they reconnected with each other and connected with their kicking son.

"I started to feel little kicks last week," Sookie said softly. "I'm sorry you weren't there," she paused as a tear fell down her cheek, "for any of it."

"Shhh," he soothed. "None of that matters now. Nothing matters but you and our son."

She smiled. "Johan."

"Johan?" he asked.

"After Morfar," she clarified. "And after your grandfather John, too. I hope you don't mind that I've already sort of named him. Dr. Ludwig confirmed that he was a boy only this morning—or, at least, I think it was this morning—but I knew he was a boy all along, and I've been calling him Johan in my head since the day I found out about him."

Eric smiled. "Thank you, Sookie. Thank you," he said again, trying to express his gratitude for a lot more than the thought she'd put into naming their son.

"I left the middle name for you to pick, though I thought you might want to choose Godric."

"Johan Godric Northman," he said aloud, testing the name on his lips.

She sighed. "I think it sounds good too."

Eric gasped a little as he felt little Johan moving again. "He's amazing," Eric said.

Sookie's eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry I kept him from you."

"Shhh," he sounded again. "You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. I should have found a way to keep you with me."

Sookie shook her head. "There was nothing either of us could have done."

"I won't let you go again," Eric vowed. "Even if Appius unleashes hell itself, I can't let you go—not again. Never again. I can't let you go!" he repeated with desperation in his tone. "I can't let Johan go." He scooted a little closer to her, and she noticed for the first time that they were actually on two different hospital beds and that the beds had been pushed flush together.

He continued speaking, "Before—I could imagine you safe and building a new life, looking up at the North Star with me every night—but moving on every day."

"I was looking up at the North Star every night," she said.

"But you spent your days trying to help me—instead of moving on with a new life for yourself," he said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell me that you wouldn't have tried to stop me."

"I can't do that," he said.

"Then you know why I didn't tell you."

Eric brought over his other hand to cover hers. "Sookie," he said softly as if her name were a prayer.

"I see you're awake," came the jarring voice of Dr. Ludwig.

Both Sookie and Eric were startled out of their focus on each other.

"Oh—hi. Yes," Sookie stammered, turning to look at the short woman now standing next to the bed and suddenly seeming quite a bit taller than usual.

"Well," Dr. Ludwig said. "It's nice to see your eyes open. Are you experiencing any cramping at all? Or pain in your abdomen?"

Sookie shook her head. "No. Uh—my right arm hurts a little. And my head, but nothing else. What happened? Did I faint?"

Dr. Ludwig nodded. "Yes—and a lot more than that too, missy. Your blood pressure became elevated and you blacked out for a while. You lost quite a bit of blood, but I think that the worst of the episode is past you."

"The baby?" Sookie asked fearfully. "I feel him, but is he okay?"

"He's fine. He's strong," Eric assured quickly.

"Yes. He's a little fighter," Dr. Ludwig confirmed.

"What happened?" Sookie asked.

"You tell me," Dr. Ludwig requested.

"Well," Sookie started, "it seemed like the world started spinning and then I blacked out."

"Any headaches before that? Any nausea? Any blood loss or spotting during the last few days?" the doctor asked, though she'd asked the same questions the morning before as well.

Sookie shook her head. "No spotting. But right before it happened, my head started hurting, but that might have been because . . . . "

Her voice trailed off, and then she looked over at Eric—still lying beside her. "Oh my God! I have to talk to Niall!"

Niall stared at the piece of crumpled paper in his hands. The sheet was somewhat yellowed with age, and it was obvious that several different people had written on it over the years.

The piece of paper had been next to Sookie when he'd found her unconscious on the floor, and he'd picked it up and put it into his pocket, not knowing what it was and caring a lot more about Sookie than the piece of paper at that moment.

After that, he'd simply forgotten about it.

He'd brought it with him to the hospital that morning in error. In his hurry to visit Sookie, he had put on the sweater he'd been wearing the day before, instead of sending it to the cleaners as he'd intended since he'd gotten a little of Sookie's blood on the sleeve.

Niall had made a point to arrive at the hospital right when visiting hours began. He hadn't left the hospital the night before until Sookie was stable; however, he had wanted to check on Sookie's progress himself.

He had walked into her room only ten minutes before, and she had greeted him with a nervous smile. As Niall had expected, Eric Northman was still with her. And though Sookie looked tired and still a bit pale, her eyes were alit with something that Niall had been hoping to see for a while—happiness. The elderly man understood well that her expression was only possible because she'd been reunited with her beloved. Similarly, Eric's eyes were shining as well—his with hope. Seeing Sookie and Eric together had made Niall understand just what they had been missing before.

As soon as he'd arrived, Sookie had asked him about the piece of paper she'd had when she'd collapsed, and he'd been able to produce it right away. Then she had asked him to read it. In truth, he could hardly believe the words on the paper, but those words sang true to his heart, even as he felt a tear slip from his eye.

"It all fits—even the dates," Niall remarked as Eric, Sookie, and Bobby looked at the elderly man expectantly.

"I wasn't sure," Bobby shared, smiling down at Sookie. "When Sookie and Eric told me about this earlier, it seemed like the timeline was off—that the turn of the 20th century might be too early for your father to have been Sookie's great-great grandfather's brother." Bobby was still trying to absorb the knowledge he'd received that morning. If it were true, then Sookie really was his family—not just by affection, but by blood.

"My father was fifty-four when your grandmother Mary was born," Niall told Bobby. "He was widowered by his first wife, and they were childless. He didn't marry again until he was much older. His second wife, Victoria, was only twenty-five when they married. I was born in 1937 when my father was fifty-seven."

Sookie shook her head in disbelief. "I still can't believe I might be related to you!"

"There is no might," Niall said confidently. "I told you of the photograph that my father's brother sent to him—the one of him, Ruby, and their children." He smiled. "Now I know why you were so familiar to me when we met! I never put it together before, even though the names were the same. However, now I recall! I've seen that picture only a few times, but the woman in it looks very much like you, especially before your hair faded back to blonde."

Niall pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed. "Desmond," he said into the phone. "I need you to come to the Hamptons as soon as possible." He looked at Sookie and smiled. "And please bring my father's old lockbox from the family's safety deposit box—will you?" He listened for a moment. "Yes—this afternoon would be fine." He hung up.

"There was an old picture of them with my Gran's stuff too," Sookie said quietly. "It's in my room at your house."

"So," Niall said, "if those pictures match—which I know they will—then we'll know for sure. You will be my first cousin, Sookie!"

"First cousin?" Sookie asked, obviously confused.

"Yes—though thrice removed," Niall grinned. "And you will be Bobby and Claudine's third cousin—once removed."

"I never understood the removed part," Sookie said honestly.

"Ah," Niall said with a smile, "that part it easy. It's the number of generations that separate the two cousins. Since I am of the equivalent generation to your great-grandfather, I am three generations ahead of you. But Bobby is actually the equivalent of your father—generation wise, though not age wise, so he's once removed."

"Oh," Sookie said, as Niall moved to stand next to Bobby, who was gingerly holding Sookie's right hand—since her wrist had been injured. Niall gestured, and though Bobby seemed reluctant to give up the hand of his new cousin, he did just that—after a look that was equal parts demanding and playful from Niall.

"I know that we are family, Sookie," Niall said firmly, though gently, his eyes sparkling with joy. "Something inside of me has known from the first day we met. And when that is proven, then Appius will have no choice but to accept your marriage to Eric! It was your ancestor who was the eldest Brigant son those many, many years ago. You are a Brigant as much as I am!"

Sookie shook her head a little. "Even if we're related, it doesn't change who I am or what social class I belong to."

"Oh—but it does!" Niall exclaimed with a twinkle in his eyes. "After receiving the letter from his brother, my father set aside half of the family fortune at the time. It was not to be touched by anyone on my side of the family. He told me that it was his brother Niall's inheritance by right. And that money is still there, Sookie—though now it is an even larger amount given the fact that I have kept it invested. It is totally separate from my own wealth, my dear. So if you turn out to be my family, then it is yours, or at least yours to share with my uncle's other descendants."

Eric and Sookie looked at each other in shock.

Eric spoke, his voice shaking a little. "Sookie, you know that I don't care about bloodlines and social class—right? You know I never did."

"I know," she answered. "Plus," she smiled, "we're already married in every way that really matters."

They both looked down at the ring on her finger.

"That we are," Eric agreed.

"But if Sookie is a Brigant," Bobby said with a triumphant smirk, "then she will meet every goddamned one of those demands in your contract with that rat bastard!"

"So I won't have to break the contract to marry you," Eric said in awe.

"And if Appius tries to deny the worth of a Brigant, he'll have me to deal with!" Niall said resolutely.

Sookie took a deep breath. "Let's just make sure I'm a Brigant before getting carried away—okay?"

"You all are better than a Days of Our Lives episode," came the sarcasm-laced voice of Dr. Ludwig from inside the room—where no one had noticed her. Indeed, she was capable of sneaking into places. "However, you don't have to wait for a damned picture to know if you're related. I've taken plenty of Sookie's blood during the last day to do a DNA comparison. All I'll need is a bit more of your blood and two hours," she said, looking at Niall.

"Then lead the way, good doctor," Niall said after giving Sookie a kiss on the forehead.

Dr. Ludwig glared in Bobby's direction. "And you come with me too. I want Sookie to get some rest, especially given the soap opera that I just witnessed in here."

"Is everything okay, Amy?" Eric asked, worry finding its way quickly into his eyes. "I've been staring at the monitors the whole time, and the numbers are the same."

"Yes—so let's keep it that way," Dr. Ludwig said with a little wink in Eric's direction as she moved toward the door.

"Amy? He gets to call you by your first name?" Niall asked indignantly as he followed her. "I've known you for almost thirty years, and . . . ."

As Niall's voice faded with his and the doctor's departure from the room, Eric and Sookie chuckled.

Bobby moved to the door as well, but turned around before leaving. "You know, I think that doctor has a crush on you," he smirked at Eric.

Sookie giggled. "Yep—no doubt. I've only ever seen her be nice to you."

"Too bad I'm already taken," Eric grinned, looking down at Sookie.

"I'll be back as soon as the little hobbit lets me," Bobby chuckled.

"You know," Eric mock-scolded, "calling her that will probably not endear you to her."

Bobby shrugged and left the room.

Immediately, Eric rolled the second bed back to where it had been next to Sookie's, locked its wheels, slipped off his shoes, and climbed in. He would have preferred just curling up with her in her own bed, but he'd been warned by their new nurse, Chow, that Sookie couldn't really move around much because of the fetal heart monitor around her belly.

When he was lying down facing her, he took her left hand again, and they just stared at each other for a few minutes.

"Are you doing okay with all this?" Eric asked.

"I'm doing okay—so far," she said. "I'm trying to take deep, calming breaths like Claudine taught me."

Eric smiled and nodded. "Me too."

"But I'll probably freak out a little when the tests come back. I have to admit that I love the idea of being related by blood to Niall and Bobby and Claudine." She smiled. "After all, they already feel like my family. But I definitely don't know what to think about taking Niall's money."

Eric smiled. "You can talk with him about it later—when you're stronger."

"What about you? Are you doing okay with all this?" she responded, glancing down at their entwined hands which were resting together on her belly.

He nodded. "Okay doesn't begin to cover how I feel. Yesterday morning I woke up with no hope for the future and only a life of unhappiness staring at me in the face. And I figured that was my fate—that it was the only way for my future to be—the only way to make sure you stayed safe. But now the only future I see is with you and Johan." He smiled. "And like an answer to a prayer, it seems that you belong to a family that my father won't be able to object to—a family that meets every stipulation in that fucking contract. So now," he whispered, "I won't even have to break the contract to be with you. And—if I don't break the contract—then Appius will have no reason to do all the harm he's threatened us with." A tear flowed from his eye. "It's like a miracle, Sookie. I had always thought that the fates had decided that I was unworthy of anything good, but now I find that they have brought me here to this place and this moment, where I see nothing but the good things that can happen. You and Johan are my miracle."

A tear fell from Sookie's eye too, and for a long time, they simply looked at each other as they rested their hands over their son.

"What are we gonna do about Appius?" Sookie asked when she felt herself starting to drift off to sleep. "Even if you don't break the contract, he won't like that you're happy."

"Right now—we're not going to do anything about him. You're going to get some rest, like the doctor said. And I'm going to lie here and watch over you."

"What about your work today?" she asked sleepily.

"I called Clancy while you were asleep earlier and told him not to expect me in today. My cellphone—the one they have the tracker on—is still in our house. So—as far as they know—that's where I am too. Hopefully, Appius will think that I've finally succumbed to depression." Eric smiled a little, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Maybe he'll throw a party."

"What if Debbie Pelt tries to determine whether you're really there?"

"Shh," Eric said, soothing her and moving as close to her as he could. "Henry has things covered. Let's just rest for a while and get you and Johan a little stronger before we worry about things that aren't really that important now."

They both smiled sincerely as they felt a few kicks against their hands.

"See—my son agrees with me," Eric grinned.

"Oh really? And how can you tell that?" she giggled.

"Because," he answered with a shrug, "he kicked in agreement."

She giggled. "Is he gonna kick me every time he agrees with you?"

"Yep, sorry," Eric said with a wider grin. When Johan kicked again, Eric chuckled. "See?"

Sookie half-giggled and half-sighed as he leaned in to kiss her. Their smiles mirrored in their kiss.


	8. Jump To

Chapter 08: Jump To

A steady rain fell outside of Sookie's window at Niall's home. She was feeling a little stir crazy, both due to the fact that it had been raining for three days straight and because she had been more-less confined to her bed as a condition of her release from the hospital.

Thankfully, Dr. Ludwig was due within the hour, and—if everything looked good—she'd be able to move around more, as long as she didn't overdo it and her blood pressure stayed normal.

"Beautiful," came Eric's voice from the doorway as he took in the sight of Sookie lounging in the bed with Ned curled up right over the bump that indicated Johan's current address.

"I could say the same," she grinned looking up at him. He was wearing only a pair of dark gray track pants and a white T-shirt. In her mind, he was the very definition of hot. "You know—I'm going to be asking Dr. Ludwig about us having sex—right?"

Eric's face clouded with lust and then concern. "We shouldn't push things," he said cautiously as he brought her the large glass of water Dr. Ludwig had ordered for her to drink before the ultrasound.

"Which is why we'll ask to make sure it's okay." She grinned mischievously before taking a big gulp. "I've had to go through almost five months of horny pregnancy hormones all by myself—you know."

Eric couldn't help but to leer at the increased swell of Sookie's breasts. "Why don't you tell me what you did to curb your appetite, lover?" he purred. "Did you touch yourself?"

Glad she'd already swallowed her drink, she blushed and bit her lip. "Yes," she answered, her voice raspy.

"Did you think about me when you did?" he asked, sitting down next to her on the bed and running the backs of his fingers over her collarbone.

"Oh, God, yes," she whimpered, closing her eyes and licking her lips. "I thought about you—a lot."

Unable to control himself, Eric leaned in and took those moist lips with his own. They'd been back together for almost a week, but he'd been very careful to only give her soft kisses and caresses up to that point, despite her various attempts to move things further along. Now it was his lips that were unyielding. Their tongues twirled together—not fighting for dominance so much as for sustenance.

They were so lost in their ever-deepening kiss that they didn't notice Dr. Ludwig come into the room, but then again, she was quite the sneaky one.

The doctor cleared her throat loudly and banged the portable ultrasound machine against the bench at the foot of the bed just for effect.

"Oh!" Sookie cried out, her face immediately turning beet red as she pulled away from the kiss.

"Could you give me ten more minutes?" Eric groaned, burying his face into Sookie's neck.

The doctor chuckled. "If all goes well with this visit, you can have all the time you want for hanky-panky, Northman. But for now, move your scrawny ass out of my way so that I can examine my patients."

"Yes ma'am," Eric said with a chuckle as he got up from the bed, using a pillow in an obvious manner to hide the erection that had sprung up during his kiss with Sookie. He'd not had the benefit—or curse—of pregnancy hormones when they'd endured their separation, so he'd not been in the mood to masturbate very often. And for the last week he'd been too worried about Sookie and their son to get carried away. But his passionate kiss with Sookie had stirred a lot more than memories.

"So—uh," Sookie started, having composed herself a little, "if the tests go well, then I'll be able to get out of this bed more often?"

"Yes," Dr. Ludwig said sarcastically, "and you can do fun things in it too." She winked at Eric and looked significantly at the pillow he was still holding. Eric had the audacity to wink back, even as Sookie blushed fire-engine red.

The doctor chuckled as she approached Sookie's side of the bed and took a look at the log of blood pressure readings that had been recorded for the last several days. When Sookie was awake, Eric or Louise would take her blood pressure every two hours. So far, it was holding at about 115 over 75, which was within the range the doctor had wanted to see.

"I see the medicine is working," Dr. Ludwig said, looking at Eric. The knowing look she gave him suggested that she didn't think it was the tablets Sookie was taking that were helping her.

Sookie couldn't have agreed more. She was even surer than the doctor that it had been Eric's presence which had made her and Johan better. In fact, had it not been for him, she didn't know if either she or their son would have survived.

Eric had been by Sookie's side almost constantly for the previous seven days, thanks to an idea of Claudine's.

Bobby had driven Eric back home at 4:00 a.m. the previous Tuesday morning as Sookie had slept and Niall had watched over her and Johan. With Henry's help, Eric had snuck into Carmichael Tower with no one being the wiser that he'd been gone between Sunday morning and early Tuesday morning. The next step was for Eric to make some noise—a lot of fucking noise, even as Bobby snuck back into his own home and waited for a planned phone call from Eric—one that Appius would hear.

Eric had started his performance by throwing a beer bottle against the wall in the kitchen. Pans followed as he basically threw anything that wouldn't break and a few things that would onto the kitchen floor. Of course, he avoided destroying the things that Sookie and he liked. However, a broken waffle maker met a very nasty—and loud—death. After the kitchen was a wreck, he went into his and Sookie's bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, weeping.

But—despite the fact that he was performing—Eric's tears had been very real.

For the first time in his life, Eric had allowed himself to freely cry all of the tears that he'd ever bottled up.

Eric wept to release all the anger and fear that he'd been holding in since Sookie had left. He wept for all the seconds, minutes, hours, days, and months that he'd not seen her face. He wept as he thought about what might have happened to Sookie and his son if Niall hadn't been there or if little Ned—another hero in the story, as it turned out—hadn't howled from the hallway. He wept as the thought of losing Sookie or Johan now—or ever—entered his mind. And he wept as he vowed to protect them with his very soul, even if he had to kill his father with his own bare hands to do it.

He wept for his mother—to cleanse himself of the ambivalent feelings that Appius had made him have about her. Instead of being able to love her, Eric had been made bitter at Stella Larsson-Northman because she'd set into motion Appius's need for revenge. Finally, however, he could cry for her loss from his life with true sorrow.

He wept for his dead grandfathers, who had been so generous to him in setting up the trust fund and in other ways too. They could not have foreseen Appius holding it back from him; they had simply wanted to ensure his future, and had given him the most important things they'd collected during their lives.

He wept for Gran, who would miss seeing his and Sookie's child. He wept because of the fact that Sookie wouldn't have her grandmother around to give her guidance on being a mother.

He wept about everything that Sookie and he had been cheated out of in their lives, and that particular weeping had led to the destruction of the bedroom. He ripped the covers off the bed violently as he thought of all the pain and suffering Michelle had caused Sookie. He threw one of the lamps against a wall when he thought of Bartlett touching Sookie as a child because her mother refused to protect her from him. And the other lamp met the corner of the room as he thought of Sookie being forced to stare into a corner for much of her life. He turned the mattress over as he thought about the "meetings" he'd had to endure with Appius over the years. He toppled a nightstand as he wept about the hatred his father had for him.

Still weeping, he sank down onto his knees and buried his head into his hands, making the occasional muffled sob as he shed tears for every damaging word that his father had ever told him and every damaging act that his father had ever perpetrated against him.

Of course, Eric's "breakdown" was planned, a necessity to his strategy to buy some time with Sookie so that she could recover and so that they could figure out what to do next. However, his tears were no less painful because they were part of a strategy.

No—they were the product of over thirty years of sorrow and loss.

However, his tirade through the room was serving an opposite purpose than what Appius would think. Instead of representing the crushing of his spirit, Eric was becoming lighter with every drop that fell from his body.

After about a half an hour of quiet sobs from his knees, Eric made his scripted call to Bobby. The call had been designed to seem like a call for help from a desperate and suicidal individual. During the short conversation, Eric lamented that he didn't think he could live on without Sookie. And Bobby told him that he would be over in half an hour. In the meantime, Bobby sent Pam down to Eric's home to make sure that he didn't "hurt himself." Pam had been prepped by Thalia beforehand so that she wouldn't be too freaked out by what she saw.

Yet Pam's tears while she held Eric were real too.

To Appius or to anyone else watching, the whole production would have seemed as if Eric had finally let his depression eat away at him to a dangerous and crippling point, a theory validated by the fact that Eric hadn't been seen outside of his home by Appius's minions for several days.

Upon his arrival, Bobby had insisted that Eric needed professional help and that he needed to get away from the house and the things that reminded him of Sookie. Bobby offered to let Eric stay with him, but Eric had angrily denied that request. Next, Bobby had "desperately" suggested his uncle Niall's house in the Hamptons—where Eric could basically have a whole wing to himself and where he could be away from the city.

Again, Eric refused the idea, claiming that he needed to get to NP to work. After that, Eric had gotten up, inadvertently slicing his own hand on a piece of the lamp.

Though unintended, the accident had helped to solidify the overall effect of the "scene," though, thankfully, the wound had required nothing more than a few bandages and a tetanus shot.

Pam finally "convinced" Eric that he should get out of the city for a few days—at the very least—and that he could work from the Hamptons and via phone with Clancy. She offered to cover any meetings he couldn't do via Skype or video conference.

The next part of the plan involved its chief architect, Claudine. Bobby drove Eric straight to Claudine's office. From following Eric for months, Franklin Mott already knew that Eric saw the therapist once a week, so it made sense that a visit would be in order after Eric's "breakdown." After spending an hour with Claudine and then collecting some antidepressant meds at a local pharmacy—all while being tracked by Mott—Bobby drove Eric to Niall's Hamptons estate.

Niall's estate had surveillance cameras all around the perimeter; plus, Mikey and Sean were like pit-bulls, guarding both gates with German Coopers and monitoring the video feeds carefully. In fact, the siblings had made a game out of spotting the swarthy man—"Where's Franklin?" instead of "Where's Waldo?" And then—once they had hours of recorded footage of Mott trying to see through the thick foliage surrounding Niall's estate—Mikey, as the winner of the game, called the police about a "suspicious peeping Tom in the area."

Given the amount of footage they had, the police had more than enough to question Mott and to search his vehicle, where they'd found an unregistered gun. That had led to several days of jail time for Mott before he was bailed out. After being released, Mott had been spotted back in Manhattan following Bobby, and no one seemed to be watching Eric in the Hamptons.

Still, Eric had been very careful. Given the fact that Niall was so involved in the hospital that bore his name, it wasn't suspicious that the elderly man went there often, and after Eric snuck back into the hospital with Niall, he'd simply stayed there until Sookie was ready to return to Niall's house, which she did in his limo, which had conveniently tinted windows just in case someone was trying to watch them.

Meanwhile, all of the footage of Appius still being collected by Thalia and Bobby showed the elder Northman to be jovial, and nobody needed Sookie's skill to tell them why that was.

"Ready?" Dr. Ludwig's voice asked Sookie, breaking Eric from his thoughts.

Eric moved to hold Sookie's hand as Dr. Ludwig gave her a quick pelvic exam and then set up the ultrasound machine.

"This is the portable machine, so you won't be able to see the baby in as much detail as before," she explained, "but I'll be able to see what I need to, and that's the important thing."

Sookie and Eric both nodded.

"So—any cramping, spotting, nausea, dizziness, headaches?" the doctor asked.

"No," Sookie responded.

"Good," the doctor responded as she put gel onto Sookie's belly. "This is going to be cold," she said with a smirk after she'd already put the goo onto Sookie's body.

A gasping Sookie glared at her. "Why must you do that every time?"

Dr. Ludwig cackled as she grabbed the wand and then turned on the rich sound of Johan's heartbeat.

Eric and Sookie both sighed at the sound.

"How is his movement?" Dr. Ludwig asked. "You should be feeling him quite a bit now."

"I am," Sookie confirmed. "In fact," she smiled, "whatever you're doing is making him move right now."

"I see that," Dr. Ludwig chuckled, examining the screen. "He seems active enough, and his heart rate is right where it should be." She nodded with satisfaction and then turned the portable machine so that Sookie and Eric could see their child.

Eric chuckled. "I think he's trying to do a somersault."

"Better get that out of his system now," Sookie grinned. "Soon it'll be too cramped in there."

"Oh—he'll manage," Dr. Ludwig said, "probably kicking against your kidneys and bladder when he does."

Sookie cringed a little even though she kept smiling at the screen.

"So?" Sookie asked after a little while. "Are we okay?"

"You and Johan are both doing well," Dr. Ludwig answered, turning off the machine and cleaning the gel off of Sookie's stomach. "You can resume light exercise, which means walking and a little swimming, but if you get tired at all, listen to your body. And I want you to keep up with the blood pressure checks. If that bottom number goes above 90 at any time, I want you to come straight to the hospital."

"And sex?" Sookie asked with a little smirk.

"No circus tricks," the doctor chuckled. "But the resumption of a healthy sex life will be good exercise, but—again," she looked at Sookie, "listen to your body. If it wants sex, give it sex. If it wants rest, give it rest."

"Right now, it wants strawberry ice cream with butterscotch syrup and Oreo cookies," Sookie said with a sigh.

Dr. Ludwig and Eric both chuckled.

"Well," the doctor chortled, "then Daddy here needs to jump to."


	9. Birth Right

Chapter 09: Birth Right

Two bowls of ice cream later, both of which were enjoyed in the sunroom, Sookie felt very sated—at least for food. And Eric felt very aroused.

Sookie had eaten her treat as if on a long, orgasm-inducing thrill ride. Eric had never been jealous of a spoon or a bowl before; however, now he wanted to take all the goddamned spoons and bowls and plates and pots in the house and bury them outside just so that Sookie would be forced to eat her next serving off of his body.

"What's wrong?" she asked him, having noticed that his eyes had glazed over. "Are you panting?"

He leered at her and seemed to growl, "You were making all the right noises for all the wrong reasons."

Immediately, she turned red.

A smile lit up his face at that. "I love that I can still make you blush—despite the fact that you and I made Johan together."

"Maybe I wouldn't be blushing if I didn't remember how we made him."

Eric moved so that he was next to Sookie on the little couch she was sitting on. He grabbed her hand, and his face was suddenly more sincere than lustful.

"When do you think we made him?" he asked. "It was during the last week we were together in January—right?"

Sookie smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it must have been during that week, though it's difficult to know for sure which," she paused, turning even redder, "time it happened. We made love so much that week."

He smiled too at the memory, though his eyes were a little melancholy as he thought of their last week together in January. It had been the very definition of bittersweet.

"But I think it was on Wednesday of that week for some reason," she said with certainty, when she noticed that Eric's expression had turned a little glum.

Eric closed his eyes for a moment and thought back. "The piano?"

Sookie nodded, this time without blushing. "Yeah. You were playing an instrumental version of Leonard Cohen's 'Hallelujah.' And in that moment—I just knew."

"Knew what?"

Tears welled-up in Sookie's eyes. "I thought that I would never find a better moment than that one. It was perfect. You were perfect. We were perfect."

"So you marched right over to that piano and took me," Eric reminded, his eyebrows waggling.

"Hush," she said," her blush re-intensifying.

"You did," he said with a smile. "And—on behalf of myself and the piano bench—thank you."

She slapped his arm playfully before nuzzling into his side. "Anyway, that's when I think it was." She smiled warmly. "The moment I realized I might be pregnant, my mind flew to you sitting at the piano, playing that song as if you were playing a prayer to God. And having a family with you was my prayer, so—I guess—that means someone was listening."

"It was my prayer too," he whispered.

"I hate to interrupt you two," Niall said from the doorway of the sunroom.

Both Sookie and Eric looked up at their host. Since the DNA test had confirmed that he and Sookie were, indeed, related, Niall had redoubled his efforts to make sure that she was taken care of. And—of course—that meant taking care of Eric too in Niall's mind. After all, Eric was already sort of related through Bobby and he was also already sort of married to Sookie. Thus, through one DNA test, Niall felt as if he'd gained two new grandchildren—since he was obviously too young to be a great-grandfather, and he didn't feel like just a distant cousin to Sookie.

"It's fine," Sookie smiled even as Eric helped her stand up so that she could hug Niall. "The doctor gave me a clean bill of health!"

"I heard," Niall said with a smile. "At least I think I did. Ludwig mumbled something about my needing to wear earplugs for the next few days," he said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Immediately, Sookie was burying her face into Eric's chest, even as Niall chuckled heartily.

"I'm sorry, Sookie," Niall said with another chuckle. "Ludwig told me to tell you that in order to rile you. I—of course—reminded her that my Viola and I put our bedroom on the farthest side of the house so that we could be up to whatever adventures we saw fit to be up to—whenever we saw fit to be up to them—even if our grandkids were visiting." He winked at her.

Sookie was thankful when Louise walked into the room, interrupting their blush-inducing conversation.

"Mr. Cataliades is here," Louise informed as she smiled at Sookie. "You doin' okay, Sook? Need more ice cream?" she asked. Like the others on Niall's estate, Louise had accepted Sookie's "new" name without question, and she'd taken the news of Sookie being related to Niall with an immediate, "Well—of course, she's family."

"Thanks, Lou," Sookie said. "But I'm stuffed.

Louise smiled and then looked at Niall. "Should I tell Mr. Cataliades to wait for you in your office?" she asked him.

"No—just send him back here," Niall responded.

Louise nodded and left the room.

"Oh," Sookie said, looking down. She was wearing only a pair of maternity shorts and one of Eric's T-shirts. Luckily, she'd put on a bra. Eric was also still dressed quite casually—in his track pants and T-shirt. "We should get dressed into something better then," she said worriedly.

Niall shook his head and chuckled. "Do not worry about a little thing such as that. I have seen Desmond in much more questionable attire."

"Niall!" Desmond Cataliades admonished as he walked into the sunroom, "will you never let me live that down?"

Niall chuckled. "No."

"Live what down?" Sookie asked curiously.

The lawyer sighed dramatically as he took off his suit jacket and hung it over the back of a chair before sitting down. "Niall likes to remind me of a particular Halloween costume I once wore."

"What was it?" Eric asked as he helped Sookie retake her seat and retook his as well.

"It was actually your grandfather John's idea," Mr. Cataliades smiled at Eric as he recollected that particular Halloween. "You see—John was a big fan of the movie Some Like it Hot. And he thought it would be funny if he, Niall, and I dressed up as the characters from it."

"So you dressed up like Tony Curtis or Jack Lemmon in drag?" Eric asked, as he recalled the movie Mr. Cataliades was talking about. He and Sookie had actually watched it the summer before with Mormor; it was one of her favorites.

"No," Mr. Cataliades groaned a little. "Niall was the Tony Curtis character, and your grandfather John was the Jack Lemmon character."

"So who were you?" Sookie asked.

Niall chortled.

Mr. Cataliades glared at his friend. "They made me dress up like Marilyn Monroe!"

Sookie and Eric both looked at the currently sour-faced man before them and burst out laughing, earning them a glare from the lawyer too.

"You know," Niall said with a grin as he looked at Eric, "Desmond, your grandfather John, and I always acted much more idiotic together than we did separately."

"Do you remember the time we accidentally set John's golf cart on fire?" the lawyer asked.

"No," Niall said quickly and sternly, though he winked at Sookie, "and you don't recall that either."

Mr. Cataliades chuckled. "You must be getting old if you are succumbing to memory problems."

"Don't forget that you are a year older than I am," Niall said.

The two spry elderly men chuckled heartily before Niall's face fell a little. "We lost John way too soon," he sighed.

"That we did, "Mr. Cataliades agreed. "You were around sixteen when he passed—weren't you?" he asked, looking at Eric.

"I was seventeen," Eric answered quietly, the mood in the room suddenly much more somber. "Because of," Eric paused, "how things were, I didn't know him well."

Sookie squeezed his hand in comfort.

Mr. Cataliades's face clouded a bit. "If John had a flaw, it was that he allowed Grace to rule him on some things that he should not have." He sighed deeply and looked at Eric almost guiltily.

The young man didn't miss the look, but before he could ask what had caused it, Niall focused them on the reason he'd asked his friend to come to the Hamptons that day. "Did you bring the paperwork, Desmond?" he asked.

Broken from whatever thoughts he'd been having related to Eric, the lawyer nodded and reached into his briefcase.

"What paperwork?" Sookie asked suspiciously.

"Now," Niall began conciliatorily, "don't be angry, but I had Desmond draw up the papers that will transfer my uncle's legacy to his family line."

Sookie sighed. "You know how I feel about this, Niall. I don't think it's right to take your money like that."

"And that's why I waited until Ludwig told me that you were better before asking Desmond to come visit," Niall said with a wry smile.

"Plus, the fortune truly isn't his; it never was," Mr. Cataliades informed, "nor could it ever be inherited by anyone of his descent."

"What do you mean, Mr. Cataliades?" Sookie asked. She'd met the lawyer only briefly when he'd come to the hospital to compare the picture of Ruby and the man they were now referring to as Niall #1—which had been sent to Niall's father, James—to the picture Sookie had taken from Gran's house. Since Dr. Ludwig had demanded that she rest after the DNA test and the pictures had confirmed that she was—indeed, a Brigant—neither Sookie nor Eric had talked to the lawyer very much.

"Please," Mr. Cataliades said, "call me Desmond."

"Okay—Desmond," Sookie replied with a polite smile.

The lawyer smiled back. "My own grandfather was the lawyer for Niall's father, James. After receiving the letter from his brother, Niall #1, James asked my grandfather to hire people to try to find him and Ruby. But they failed because they didn't know the surname that they were using. However, James never stopped hoping that Niall #1—or his children—would eventually come home. James essentially split the Brigant estate—as it existed at the time—into two equal parts. One half of it was to be divided between his children, Niall and Mary. The other half was left in a trust for his brother's family—should they ever be found or make themselves known."

"The only thing that I was able to do with my uncle's half of the family fortune was to make sure it was invested properly," Niall informed. "And—even with that, there were conditions set so that the money couldn't be invested in risky stocks and the like." He chuckled a little. "My father had lived through the stock market crash—you see. And he was quite conservative about his own investments."

"However, in this case, conservative was good," Desmond commented. "Initially, James had an assessment done of all Brigant property, including the estates the family owned. To keep things equitable, he added the value of half of the estates into the trust for his brother. Then he created an investment portfolio for the trust. One-third of the money was put into long-term, high-interest-yielding saving's accounts. One-third of the money was invested in treasury bonds. And the last third was invested in blue-chip stocks."

"I've heard that term—'blue-chip'—before, but I'm not sure what it means," Sookie said.

"It refers to stocks from companies that are well-established and large—so they are considered relatively safe to invest in," Eric responded.

Niall spoke up, "It was only the stock portion of the trust that I was really able to work with—though I have followed my father's wishes and have kept the estate invested in more secure stocks, rather than riskier ones that could have been higher yielding. And—of course—I've made sure that the interest-bearing savings accounts were making the most possible dividends by periodically assessing the type of accounts available and shifting the money as needed for its maximum growth. And as various bonds have matured, I've reinvested that capital into others."

"Wow!" Sookie sighed. "Sounds complicated! And, since you did all that work, it just doesn't seem right that it's not your money."

Desmond chuckled. "Actually, he's paid me to do most of the work."

Niall rolled his eyes but didn't disagree with his friend. "Just think of it as us looking after Niall #1's legacy for his family—for you, my dear," he said gently.

"But what if we'd never found each other?" Sookie asked.

Niall shrugged. "Then the estate would have just kept growing into the future. My branch of the family became its caretaker—nothing else. So—as I have said before—it is yours by right, Sookie."

Sookie leaned into Eric's side, closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths.

"You okay?" Eric asked as he put his arm around her. "Do you need to rest?"

She looked up at him and kissed him gently on the cheek. "I'm okay. It's just a lot to take in."

Eric pulled Sookie to his side a little closer and leaned back so that she could be more comfortable. He was tempted to insist that she rest or at least check her blood pressure, but right after Dr. Ludwig had left, he and Sookie had had a talk, which had included him promising not to "hover too much." In turn, she had promised to tell him if anything—even something seemingly little—"felt off."

And, when it all came down to it, he trusted her—especially when it came to the life of their child.

He kissed her lightly on the temple. "Tell me if it becomes too much," he whispered so that only she could hear.

She nodded.

Niall's face showed his own concern. "I was holding off on doing all this until Ludwig said you were okay. However, we can wait longer if need be. There's no rush, dear."

"No," Sookie said with a little smile. "It's fine. It's just a lot to process."

Niall smiled. "If it helps, think of all of it as something to pass on to your child—your children."

Sookie nodded and smiled in return. "Thanks. That actually does help—a lot."  
Desmond spoke up, "Ready to go on?" he asked Sookie kindly.

She nodded.

"As we've indicated," Desmond said, "because of the nature of James Brigant's Will, Niall was somewhat limited as far as what investments he could make, but the estate coming to your side of the family is still roughly 17.9 billion dollars."

Sookie took a deep breath. "Billion with a 'B?'"

Desmond chuckled. "Yep." He shuffled some papers around. "Given the way James's Will was drawn up, that money must be split up between all of his brother's descendants. I've done an investigation, and that includes only three people: your brother, Jason; your cousin, Hunter; and yourself. According to my search of public records, Katherine, who was your great-grandfather's sister, had one child, a son, but he was killed during World War II, and that branch of the family died with him."

"So Jason will receive an equal share to Sookie?" Eric asked with a bite to his tone.

"Yes," the lawyer stated. "Niall has told me a bit of the situation, however. Since Niall is the guardian of his uncle's estate, we will be able to set a few conditions on the distribution of the money. For instance, since Hunter is only a small child, we will place the bulk of his share into a trust fund, which can be accessed by him only after he graduates from college. That money will be invested similarly to how it has been, so it will continue to grow as he does. However, an annual sum of fifty thousand dollars will be placed into an account which Hunter's father may access for matters related to Hunter's care. And Mr. Savoy can petition Niall to release additional funds—as needed, though Niall maintains decision-making power over that."

"But what if Hunter chooses not to go to college?" Eric asked.

Desmond shrugged. "Niall—or whomever inherits guardianship of the trust—can release the funds at any time after Hunter turns 25 if the boy chooses not to go to college." The lawyer chuckled. "However, I'm betting he'll go."

Sookie nodded, but then sighed as she squeezed Eric's hand and spoke to Niall. "I wish you could have met Hadley before she died. And Gran."

"Me too," Niall said sadly. "But I will soon be able to know Hunter and his father."

Eric kissed Sookie's temple. Given the fact that Sookie had left him in charge of Gran's estate after she'd left town, he'd been contacted by Sid Matt when Hadley succumbed to AIDS that March. Unbeknownst to Eric, Bobby had passed along that information to Sookie, though—much to her regret—it had been impossible for her to attend her cousin's funeral.

"For Jason, we have set up something similar to what we did for Hunter," Niall said with a mischievous smile.

"But Jason's not a child!" Sookie exclaimed.

"Debatable," Eric said under his breath.

Everyone chuckled at that.

"Jason will receive the bulk of his inheritance only when he finishes a college degree or when the guardian of his trust agrees," Desmond reported. "In the meantime, he will have access to only fifty thousand dollars a year—just like Hunter. And—to get more—he'd have to petition . . . ."

"Me!" Niall interrupted triumphantly. He chuckled. "My father's Will allows me to retain guardianship over the estate and to distribute the money to all inheritors under reasonable and equal conditions. A college education was listed as one such consideration I could employ." He chuckled again. "Thus, Jason will have to finish a degree from an accredited four-year university if he wants the bulk of his estate."

"But Jason hated college," Sookie said, thinking about her brother's lazy attitude regarding education. "He dropped out of LSU after only a semester, when he lost his athletic scholarship because of bad grades."

Niall sighed. "When Desmond showed me his college record, I figured that was the case, and Jason will still end up with the money even if he doesn't go back to school." He ran his hand through his hair. "I won't hold it over his head for more than ten years, but I was hoping that the conditions of the inheritance would spur him into seeking his higher education again. It was at the university that I learned to think for myself. I am hoping that the same will be true for Jason." He shook his head. "From what you have told me of him, I can tell that he is easily influenced by your mother. And I do not want her to be able to enjoy any of the Brigant money, though—in the end—that choice will be Jason's."

Sookie took a deep breath. "I hope that Jason does choose to go to college. But the man I saw when we were in Bon Temps when Gran passed away was the same cruel, mean-spirited person I've always known. I hope that changes, but I don't think I would ever be able to have a relationship with him. I hope that doesn't stop you from trying to get to know him though."

"I cannot blame you for not wanting to have anything to do with him, my dear," Niall said. "I do plan to try to form a relationship with him—as well as with Remy Savoy—when we contact them to tell them of our family ties; however, the terms of my father's Will give us some latitude as far as 'when' we do that. From the time that a familial relationship was confirmed with the DNA test, we have up to a year to make ourselves known to the various family members and to distribute their inheritances."

Mr. Cataliades spoke. "Your full inheritance will be released to you today, Sookie—as you have already met the requirements."

"A college degree," Sookie mused.

"Yes!" Niall said proudly. "And you didn't even need to be bribed to get one," he winked.

"But I don't know how to handle that kind of money," Sookie sighed loudly.

"You won't need to do anything," Niall comforted. "Desmond is transferring your case to his granddaughter, Diantha, who is the managing partner in his firm. She will look after everything for you—until you are ready to give her your input."

"We have already set things up to make it easier for you, Sookie," Desmond said. "The paperwork for your inheritance taxes will be filed today. Then, Diantha will set up several things for you—an account with a quarter million dollars that you can draw upon as needed and that will be replenished biannually. The rest of your inheritance will go into high-yield savings accounts and bonds. Later—once things settle down—you can meet with Diantha about what you want to do beyond that. However, it's her job to make things as stress-free and as easy for you as possible—while still growing your inheritance."

"You'll help me understand all this?" Sookie asked, looking up at Eric.

He nodded. "Yes. Don't worry, Sookie. Take it from me—money can be a good thing because it can take many worries away. And I know that you will do good with it. It won't change who you are. It won't affect how we decide to live and to raise our children. And it won't change what profession you end up with. It's just a tool to make things easier, and—if we want—we can leave everything to our children."

"That's right, dear," Niall comforted. "And, for now, it's not even something you need to worry about. Let others do that for you. You need only concentrate on your health and the health of my grandson inside of you."

Sookie chuckled, thinking about how Niall had pronounced that he would be "grandfather" to both her and her child—rather than "cousin" or something that sounded "older."

Niall turned his focus to Eric. "I know that you are still planning what happens next as far as you and Appius are concerned."

"Yes," Eric confirmed.

Sookie sat forward and smiled widely. "Wait! You said that my inheritance will be mine as of today?"

Niall nodded in confirmation and smiled. "Yes."

Sookie looked at Eric and they both grinned, seemingly having a silent conversation. Both knew that as soon as Sookie signed the papers taking control of her estate, she would meet the terms of the contract between Eric and Appius.

"We're not going to wait to get officially married," Sookie said, her grin widening. "We can go to the Justice of the Peace and . . . ."

"Nonsense!" Niall exclaimed. "You should marry here—in the gardens, next to that patch of lavender you love." He looked at Sookie and Eric and smiled proudly at them both. "Please allow me to give you two the gift of a small wedding. I'm sure your grandmother would like to be here," he said to Eric. "And we can secretly spirit some of your friends here as well!" the patriarch added mischievously. "I could have everything ready in two weeks' time."

Eric and Sookie looked at each other.

"Two weeks would give you time to get a bit stronger, min kära," Eric said gently.

"And it would be nice to have Mormor with us when we make things official—and Bobby and Pam and Amelia and Henry and Claudine and Thalia and Blake and Ben," she giggled as her list kept getting longer.

Eric nodded in agreement and turned to Niall. "Thank you, Niall. We accept your kind offer."

Niall clapped his hands together. "Splendid!" His expression clouded. "Wait—does your contract with Appius allow for you to marry without his knowledge?" he asked warily.

"Yes—it does," Eric answered with certainty. "Bobby and I were studying it again last night. According to the contract, 'approval' for my wife is constituted by a number of factors and need not be given by Appius directly as long as those other conditions are met. The Brigant family easily meets those requirements. And, as soon as Sookie officially inherits her portion of Niall #1's estate, she'll meet all the other requirements of that damned contract," Eric finished bitterly, even as he looked at Sookie as if to beg her forgiveness that he'd ever signed the god-forsaken document.

She silently reassured him with a squeeze of his hand.

"Contract?" Desmond asked, once more looking a little guilty. "You have a contract with Appius?"

Eric looked over at the attorney and nodded in confirmation. He wanted to ask the lawyer about his shamefaced expression, but Niall inadvertently interrupted his doing so for a second time.

Niall spoke excitedly. "A wedding is wonderful news! And—of course—your grandmother and all of your friends are welcome to stay here! Jake will be beside himself that you are doing it in the gardens! And Karen and Louise can make the food and decorate!"

Sookie interlocked her fingers with Eric's. "Thank you, Niall—so much."

"It is nothing, my dear," Niall said. "I am happy to do it; I just wish we had known of each other sooner."

"Me too," Sookie said even as a tear fell from her eye. It could have been a tear of sadness for the time she'd lost with Niall and Eric. But it wasn't. It was a tear of joy for the family she'd gained and for the man by her side.


	10. Good Intentions

Chapter 10: Good Intentions

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

DESMOND POV

In all his years, Desmond Cataliades had rarely been as troubled as he was in that moment. John Northman had been a few years older than he was, but since their parents were best friends, the boys had grown up as best friends too—with Desmond looking up to John like a big brother. Niall's parents had moved from Boston to New York when Desmond was ten and John was twelve, and the three boys had become inseparable after that.

And, while many people drifted apart with age, they had stayed close.

While Niall had gone into pharmaceuticals, John had taken over his family's businesses, which had included a real estate firm and the publishing house. Eventually, John had shifted most of his attention to the publishing house, selling many of his real estate holdings to Copley Carmichael, who had been looking to grow his own investments. In turn, John had used his new capital to triple the size of his publishing house.

Meanwhile, Desmond had taken over his father's old and established law firm, and his daughter Gladiola had basically taken the reins from him almost twenty years before; now, his granddaughter, Diantha, had joined the firm too, and, though she was only thirty, she was already managing partner since Gladdy had wanted to cut back a bit. However, despite his age, Desmond still practiced law for a few people—with his oldest living friend Niall Brigant being one of them.

Not surprisingly, John Northman, Eric's grandfather, had been his client as well—and his closest confidant, even closer than Niall. Every secret anxiety or fear Desmond ever had was shared with John, and Desmond had heard most of John's too. When Desmond had been unsure of whether to take over the family firm, it had been John he'd talked to. When John had cheated on his cold-fish of a wife, it had been Desmond who had listened to his guilt and suggested that he come clean to Grace. Desmond and John had seen each other at their worst—and their best.

The dilemma Desmond now faced was because of a promise that he'd made to John—a promise he'd sworn to his dying friend that he would keep no matter what.

Desmond did not know the whole story of why Niall's newly found relative, Sookie Stackhouse, was essentially hiding out. He also didn't know why Eric Northman now seemed to be hiding out in Niall's home with her. Like seemingly everyone else in Manhattan, he'd seen the news of Eric's "breakdown" in the gossip rags, but the young man sitting before him was happy and mentally sound, though clearly concerned for the woman next to him.

Niall had simply told Desmond that Eric and Appius Northman were having "issues," and that he shouldn't mention having seen Eric or Sookie to anyone. The lawyer couldn't help but to wonder what those "issues" might be. In truth, he'd been keeping an eye on Appius Northman for a long time, ever since John had come to him sixteen years before.

"So?" Niall asked looking at Desmond.

"I'm sorry. What were you saying?" the lawyer asked. "I was lost in my thoughts." He glanced over at Eric and saw the young man looking back at him with a question in his arrestingly blue eyes.

Niall chuckled. "I was asking if there was anything else we needed to go over—as far as the estate goes."

"No, all Sookie needs to do is sign the papers," Desmond said, shaking his head a little. As he looked at Eric, his mind warred; however, his belief in right over wrong finally overcame his belief in the rule of attorney-client privilege and his long-ago promise to his friend.

He just prayed that John would understand.

Desmond sighed and looked around the room before settling his gaze back onto Eric. "Will you tell me about what is happening with Appius? I might be able to help you."

Having studied the lawyer as he'd been lost in his thoughts, Eric didn't hesitate, especially given the guilt and the regret that flashed over Desmond Cataliades's face whenever he looked at Eric.

"My father, after treating me like shit most of my life, is currently blackmailing me," Eric informed. "He's threatened everything I care about—unless I do as he says."

Cataliades closed his eyes as if in pain and sat forward. "Will you tell me everything?"

Niall also sat forward. Sookie had told him a lot about what was going on, but he was anxious to hear it from Eric's perspective.

Eric looked at Sookie. "Are you up for listening to this, min älskade?"

She nodded. "Are you up for talking about it?"

He looked at Cataliades. "I think I need to talk about it."

The two older men exchanged a glance and then watched as the couple in front of them seemed to lean into each other's' sides even more.

Eric started. "Did you know my mother?"

"Yes," Desmond responded. "Both Niall and I liked her very much. She was lovely and a good friend to my own daughter, Gladiola. Her death was a great blow to Gladdy."

Eric nodded. "I've heard that my father was very much in love with my mother."

"Yes," Desmond agreed. "Appius was devoted to Stella, even though—from what John told me—they had something of an unconventional marriage."

Eric laughed ruefully. "That's an understatement. As far as I can tell, their relationship was a study in contradictions. They do seem to have loved each other, but they made an arrangement when they got married. You see—my father prefers sex with men."

"I have heard rumors to that effect over the years," Desmond admitted.

Eric sighed. "My mother and Appius agreed to have an open marriage; however, there was a caveat: she would wait to seek out her own affairs until after they'd had their children. And—surprisingly enough—it seems as if Appius was more-less faithful to my mother during that time. However, despite their agreement, my mother was not faithful to him." He paused for a moment. "She had an affair with someone they had both met—and loved—in college, a man named Peder. Appius had no idea that Stella and Peder still saw each other after he'd asked her to give him up. In fact, that secret was not discovered until after my mother died."

"That is why Appius doubted your paternity," Desmond said with realization.

"You knew of that?" Eric asked.

"Yes," Desmond admitted. "John came to me a few months before his death. The week before that, he'd confronted your father about the way he treated you, and Appius told him that you were not his biological child. Appius said that you were lucky he paid for your education and kept you from starving, and he told his father to butt-out of the situation." Desmond sighed. "John found out that same night that Grace had known all along—ever since your mother died. And she'd helped to cover up the fact that Appius treated you poorly by always insisting that she and John spend their holidays with her relatives in California. So John rarely got to see you since you were either at school or in Sweden most of the time. On the few occasions when he did see you, it wasn't for long enough for him to understand that there was a problem. But that ignorance was obliterated when the cook in your father's household visited John."

"Margaret?" Eric asked. "She visited my grandfather?"

"Yes. She took a box of old trains to John."

"The trains," Eric said in a quiet voice.

"Yes," Desmond replied gently. "I was with John when he bought those for you. You must have been only two or three at the time. He told me about how you and he had spent hours playing with them."

Eric closed his eyes. "You're right. I don't remember spending much time with Grandfather John. But he called me to him before he died, and he gave me those trains. I remember them being in my room before I was sent to boarding school."

Desmond nodded. "John told me about that visit with you." He shook his head sadly. "You see—Margaret had told John about how Appius treated you—about how things were for you in Appius's household. She couldn't give him many specifics, but she told him enough to cause him to become very concerned. John admitted to me that he'd disapproved of Appius not spending more time with you, but—like most people—he'd assumed that it was because you reminded your father so much of Stella. And Grace had John convinced that Appius had to keep his distance from you or he would fall into depression because of his enduring grief over Stella's loss."

"I am like my mother according to Appius," Eric commented.

Desmond nodded. "Yes. I can see that you are like her in many ways—good ways. She too was charismatic and intelligent—a natural leader. And, by all accounts, Appius did change after she died. Everyone assumed that was from grief, and John was no exception. But he was convinced otherwise after his conversation with Margaret. As I said, he went to confront your father, which was when he learned of the affair your mother had had. Your father even showed John a letter proving her infidelity. Around that time, John's doctors told him that he was losing his battle with the cancer that was eating away at his body. Not long after that, Appius came to see his father, demanding that John cut you out of his Will. John promised Appius that he would be changing his Will, but he didn't clarify how."

Eric gasped. "That's why Appius was so angry when Grandfather left me extra stock in the company."

"Yes," Desmond confirmed. "I remember that Appius didn't even want you at John's funeral or at the reading of the Will, and he was furious when John left you a monetary inheritance as well a good deal of his stock. By then, John was concerned that Appius would withhold your trust fund from you, and he wanted to mitigate the effects if that happened. Has Appius held back the trust fund?" the lawyer asked with curiosity.

Eric closed his eyes tightly. "Yes. And more."

"What has he done?" Desmond asked, the concern clear in his tone.

"He manipulated me into officially merging my maternal grandfather's company—which was part of the trust fund and being overseen by Appius at the time—with NP. And, as soon as that was official, he confronted me about my mother's infidelity." Eric dragged his free hand through his hair even as Sookie squeezed his other—held firmly in hers. "I met Peder. There was a paternity test. While we waited for the results, Appius celebrated his ultimate revenge over my mother. He had managed to take her family's company—using me to do it."

"But you were Appius's son," Desmond stated flatly.

"Yes—much to my father's disappointment. After that, Appius demanded that he and I sign a contract. There were threats and blackmail then too." Eric sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before going on. "Bobby helped me to make the contract livable—or, at least it seemed to be livable until I met Sookie." He leaned into her a little more. "Strangely, Appius had always made it clear to me that I had no choice but to take over as CEO of NP on my thirty-fifth birthday, though—for a long time—I figured that was just one of Appius's lies to make me think I had a place in the family. And, before the paternity test, I had almost convinced myself that I did have something of a place. Appius was even treating me a little better as I was finalizing the merger with Larsson's. But all that ended abruptly with the paternity test." Eric paused. "After Appius found out that I was his, things became worse. You see—that fact seemed to make him hate me even more."

"What is in the contract?" Desmond asked warily.

"Under its terms, I am to stay at NP, running the international division until I turn 35. Then I am to take over as CEO for a period of twenty years. Appius will maintain some oversight even then, however. I will have to report to him once a year and maintain a certain profit margin. If I stay above it, then I will retain the power of CEO and remain autonomous. If I fall below it, Appius will come in and virtually take over for a year, though I will stay CEO in name. When I step down as CEO after my twenty year term, I will get my trust fund—finally." Eric sighed, once more dragging his hand through his hair. "Despite being blackmailed to stay at NP, I thought the contract would protect me. I knew it would give me job security for much of my life—if nothing else."

"What did you have to give up for that security?" Desmond asked suspiciously.

"Some of the stock Grandfather John left for me," Eric answered.

"What else is in the contract?" Desmond asked, his tone becoming angry.

Eric sighed deeply. "Before Sookie, I figured that the best I could hope for was to be the CEO at NP, and—to be truthful—it's a job that I want to do and would likely love if Appius would leave me alone to do it. Several things are required of me in order for me to become and stay CEO, however. First—as I said—I will have to submit a yearly report to Appius and keep the company growing. Another thing is that I must allow Appius to buy all my NP stock when I step down as CEO. A third condition is that I had to agree to forfeit any inheritance of NP stock from Appius's estate—not that I ever expected to get anything from him anyway. A fourth condition is that I must be married by the time I'm 35."

"A marriage," the lawyer stated. "You said something about Sookie fulfilling the requirements now. I take it that she didn't before?"

"No—she didn't," Eric answered with sadness in his tone.

"And if you aren't married by 35?" Desmond asked.

"Then Appius will choose for me. He has indicated that his choice will be Freyda de Castro or my stepsister, Nora." Eric sighed. "Before I met Sookie, I honestly didn't believe in love—at least not for me. And I figured that an arranged marriage would do just as well as anything else."

"I have heard that you are engaged to Isabel Edgington," Desmond said cautiously, not wanting to upset Sookie.

"We had made an arrangement." Eric sighed as Sookie unconsciously squeezed his hand a little tighter. He returned the gesture, trying to comfort her. "I have already contacted Isabel, and she knows that I'm not going through with it. And she knows why."

"What of Russell? I believe that he was excited about the prospect of having you as a son-in-law," Desmond said warily.

"Russell's a good man—and a reasonable one. I hope that when Isabel and I explain the situation, he will understand," Eric sighed.

Niall spoke up. "He will—especially if Isabel held no false expectations about your relationship."

"She didn't," Eric confirmed.

"Can you tell me anything more about the contract?" Desmond asked.

"It can be broken only on my 35th birthday. Either Appius or myself could break it, but there are repercussions. I will lose my trust fund and my remaining NP stock. My grandmother will also lose her pension and her home. And my division of NP will be dismantled; plus, my team will be fired. And there are other penalties too—though those are not spelled out in the contract." Eric sighed. "Suffice it to say, Appius has accumulated evidence—most of it false—that could hurt most of the people I love.

"What if the contract is broken before you are 35? Or after?" Desmond asked.

"A ten billion dollar fine," Eric said shaking his head. "Of course, there's no way I could afford that."

"And if it's not paid?" Desmond asked.

"The contract states that if it's not paid, the person who broke the contract can be brought up on charges of theft. The contract serves as evidence, and the guilty party must not contest the maximum prison sentence."

"Do you intend to break the contract?" the lawyer asked.

Eric shrugged. "I don't know. Sookie and I can now marry according to the contract's stipulations, so—theoretically—I could take over as planned without facing Appius's wrath. But my father will not like seeing me happy." He unconsciously placed his free hand onto Sookie's belly. "I cannot protect the world from Appius, but I'm going to fight my damnedest to protect the two people that matter the most to me within it. And I'll do whatever it takes to accomplish that goal—whether that involves breaking the contract or not!"

Sookie sniffled a little at Eric's proclamation.

"When Sookie and I first got together, I imagined that I could give her up, but last September, I realized that I couldn't do that," Eric continued. "Still—we decided to hide our relationship for as long as we could so that things would be," he paused, "easier for everyone concerned in the time remaining until my thirty-fifth birthday—when I did plan to break the contract." He sighed. "Isabel and Amelia Broadway, Copley Carmichael's daughter, helped me to maintain the illusion that I was going along with the idea of getting married to someone other than Sookie before I turned 35, but Appius found out about Sookie last January. After that, Sookie and I decided that since Appius knew anyway, there was no longer any need to hide, and we were planning to officially come out as a couple at the NP party last January."

"Was that where the blackmail came in?" Desmond asked perceptively.

"Yes. I told Appius that I would be marrying Sookie and that I would be breaking the contract on my 35th birthday. He just laughed at me. Of course, he threatened to fire everyone on my team at NP—as well as Pam since she'd helped me." Eric sighed. "But he didn't stop there. He had used Franklin Mott to hire someone to make it look like my counterpart in a deal with a Chinese publishing house and I were guilty of stealing profits. He threatened Guo Li and his team and made it clear that he had evidence that would ensure that I would go to prison. He also informed me that my grandmother's property in Sweden was actually a part of the trust fund, so if I broke the contract, he would kick her out of the home she loves. To that, he added threats that I would never again see my siblings. He also told me that he'd hired a ghost writer to help Sookie's mother turn Sookie's life story into something out of a tabloid." Eric pulled Sookie closer to him. "He also threatened Sookie's freedom."

"How?" Niall asked with a growl, not having heard this part of the story before.

"At the NP party two Januaries ago, I spoke to Sookie for the first time," Eric reported. "We—uh—connected and were getting ready to leave when Sookie 'overheard' de Castro and Madden scheming."

"With her ability," Niall said.

"Ability?" Desmond asked.

Sookie sighed. "It's a long story, but I can lip-read."

"Oh?" Desmond asked with interest.

Seeing that Sookie was obviously beginning to tire and because the topic of Sookie's lip-reading could be saved for another time, Eric went on without responding to Desmond's curiosity. "The first night we spoke, Sookie informed me that there were spies at NP. Appius decided that he wanted to keep the matter quiet. De Castro had also bought up a substantial amount of NP stock, and Appius used the situation to get his hands on it, though he bought it in Sophie-Anne's and Andre's names. The spies were let go and a scandal was avoided. However, Appius apparently tucked the evidence of the spying away for a rainy day."

"He has threatened to implicate Sookie with that evidence—hasn't he?" Niall seethed.

"Yes," Eric confirmed. "But if that happens now, I'm going to take the blame for any wrongdoing."

Sookie shook her head. "I wouldn't let you do that."

Eric gently placed his hand over their child, and the couple shared a look but no words.

After a few moments, Sookie seemed to accede to something Eric had been silently begging for and she nodded as he bent down to kiss her forehead.

Eric looked back at the two elderly gentlemen and sighed. "Appius has also threatened Pam's freedom as well as other people I care about." He sighed. "I don't know how to fight Appius," he added with a touch of defeat in his voice. "I never have. I have tried thinking one step ahead of him—employing countermeasures that will block the threats I know are coming, but at every turn, he seems to have the upper hand."

Eric looked back at Sookie and then smiled when Johan began kicking. "Before Sookie and Johan, I never had much to fight for. Maybe the key to defeating Appius is knowing that I no longer have a choice. I have to win."

Desmond studied the young family before him, his choice solidifying in his heart and then his head. "Eric," he said, "I know how you can defeat Appius."

Eric, Sookie, and Niall quickly turned their eyes to the lawyer.

"You know something that I can use against him," Eric stated. "It's why you've been looking at me with regret ever since you got here today."

"Yes," Desmond confirmed, "And I'm about to break the most important vow I made when I became an attorney—as well as a promise to one of the best friends I have ever had."

"Desmond?" Niall asked in question.

The attorney sighed but kept his eyes on Eric. "When your grandfather John came to me with the changes to his Will, he told me that he knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were Appius's son—his biological son."

"What?" Eric asked incredulously.

Desmond sighed. "John was able to get a hair sample of yours from Margaret, and he had DNA testing done. It showed with certainty that you and he were related."

"He didn't tell Appius?" Eric asked.

Desmond sighed. "He was going to. By then, the cancer was spreading rapidly. In fact, John's last trip out of his own home was to speak with Appius. I drove him to Appius's house. It was during your winter break. Do you remember seeing us?"

Eric nodded. "Yes. I didn't even know that Grandfather John was sick until then. He talked to me for a while before Appius got home from work." Eric closed his eyes and smiled a little. "He asked me about school and the things I liked to do. It was nice, but I . . . ." He stopped midsentence and opened his eyes, but only to look down at the floor.

"But your father came home and asked to see you for a moment," Mr. Cataliades said, remembering the day clearly.

"Yes," Eric confirmed.

"I heard what he said to you," Desmond said stiffly. "The office door was left cracked, and I stood outside of it and listened." He sighed. "And then I told your grandfather what Appius had said."

There was silence in the room for a moment as Eric lifted his head to look at Desmond.

"After he heard what Appius told you," the lawyer relayed, "John decided not to tell his son about your true paternity. He decided that Appius didn't deserve to know that you were his son. He decided that you were better off without him."

"What did Appius say to you that night?" Niall asked Eric, the emotion thick in his voice.

"I can't," Eric responded, his voice thick and his eyes closing tightly.

Desmond spoke for him. "Appius told Eric that his grandfather's illness had been brought on by John's disappointment in him. He said that Eric was the true cancer. He said that Stella had died because of him. He said Eric was why his other grandfather had died of cancer too. He said that he was afraid of Eric infecting everyone in their family. He told him that he wished he'd never been born."

Sookie buried her face into Eric's chest and cried for a moment as Eric soothed her.

"Shhh," he comforted. "It's okay, min sol."

"Goddamned bastard," Niall cursed under his breath.

Desmond sighed. "That night, John realized that Appius was so lost in his hate that nothing would have eased his venom against Eric. That night, he changed his Will and added a codicil."

"A codicil?" Eric asked.

"Yes," Desmond confirmed. "As you know, John held onto the majority of NP until he died. He thought about passing everything he had to you, but he knew that would enrage Appius even more. John also posited that even if Appius eventually discovered that you were his biological son, he would prevent you from taking over NP. Knowing that he'd failed to protect you during his life and feeling the weight of that on his shoulders, John took steps to protect you after his death."

"How?" came Sookie's voice.

"First, he wanted to make sure that Eric had his own holdings, independent of the trust fund, which he guessed that Appius would withhold. That's why he made sure that you had more stock than the other children," Desmond said directly to Eric. "And that was why he left you pretty much every cent that he had left in his personal portfolio. The majority of his stock was still passed to Appius; however, there were certain conditions in the codicil."

"Conditions?" Niall asked.

"John had spoken with Godric and knew of Eric's aptitude for business. Not foreseeing the problems it would bring, John wanted to ensure that his grandson was brought into the family business. So there were directives set up in the codicil, which Appius would have to follow in order to keep the stock that John had left to him."

"Directives?" Eric asked.

Desmond nodded and looked at Eric with regret. "First, Appius must step down as CEO of NP before he is sixty years old and allow you to take that role. After that, you cannot be removed from the position—until you choose to retire. And upon his death, Appius's remaining NP stock was to be split evenly between all of his children. If any of those conditions were not met, all of the stock originally given to Appius would be forfeited to you immediately, which would give you controlling interest in NP."

"So if Eric did back out of the contract . . . ," Niall began.

"From what I understand, if he did that on his thirty-fifth birthday, Eric would still end up with every bit of stock Appius still owns," Desmond completed. He shook his head. "Appius has done a lot throughout the years to try to get out of the conditions of John's Will and codicil. Since the language of the codicil indicates your name as Eric Northman and your relationship to John as 'grandson,' Appius wasn't worried at first—just angry. I suppose that he figured the DNA test would nullify the codicil. John knew better. Next, Appius seemed to hope that taking the company public would annul the terms of the codicil. Officially, he owned only ten percent of the company outright before John died. John split 23% among his grandchildren and gave his remaining 67% to Appius as he'd always promised. That left Appius with 77% total. Of course, to be publically traded, no one individual could hold more than 30% of the company's stock, and at least 45% of the stock had to be available for trade, so Appius initially sold the bulk of his 77%.

Desmond continued, "He kept his original 10% and 20% of what his father had given him. And he sold the other 47%. However, John foresaw that Appius might try to transfer or sell his stock to avoid the codicil's provisions, so there's a clause in the codicil that says that in the event that Appius has sold his stock so that it is under the 67% he initially inherited, he must give you all he has and pay you the current market value of the rest—unless you are made CEO, that is."

There was silence as Eric and Sookie processed what Desmond had said.

"So all I have to do is to not become CEO, and Appius will have to give me all his stock plus money—so that it all adds up to 67% of NP's worth?" Eric asked.

"Yes," Desmond confirmed, "so—you see—you have the power here. Even if Appius gave away every bit of stock he had, he'd have to pay you so much money that it would drain him dry. And if he tried to put all his property into others' names, you could sue him for evasion, and he would likely be arrested." Desmond sighed, "However, it seems that Appius is sneakier than I gave him credit for being."

"The terms of the contract," Eric sighed. "I inadvertently agreed to extra provisions for my being CEO."

"Yes," Desmond agreed. "Your contract with Appius sets up a level of competency that you will have to meet in order to stay 'acting' CEO, and since you have already agreed to those stipulations, it would be difficult to argue around them in court. The same holds true for your giving up the right to inherit any stock from Appius upon his death."

"Why didn't Appius just have me sign away my right to becoming CEO too?" Eric asked. "I would have done it in order to get out of his hold."

"That was one thing Appius could not do. It was expressly against the codicil's rules."

Eric sighed.

"The conditions of your contract also set up a tenure for you—one which you have agreed to, so it would be difficult to fight against that as well," Desmond said.

"And I have no decision-making power to determine who takes over after me," Eric sighed. "Appius saw me as a placeholder, a necessary evil."

"Fool," Niall said angrily, his fists balled.

Desmond sighed. "John was also a fool in his way. He was an optimist to the end, hoping that Appius would come around, accept you, and love you whether you were his biological son or not. On his death bed, he wrote his son a long letter to that effect, but I witnessed Appius tear it up after reading it. And in his foolishness, John made the codicil secret. Only Grace, your father, and I were to know of it. John thought it would hurt you if you knew that the only reason Appius accepted you into the company was because he literally had no choice but to do so."

Desmond shook his head. "But please do not think too poorly of John. He was very proud of you and felt extremely guilty that he'd not done more to help you. He knew that you would do well at NP; he sensed it in you. You had the perfect combination of your father's business savvy and your mother's vision and ethics." He sighed. "They were a perfect couple in so many ways, Eric. Everyone who knew them could see that. And you were the best parts of them in one body."

Everyone was silent for a few moments until Sookie's stomach growled. Eric glanced at the clock and noticed that it was well after 2:00 p.m., and they'd not had lunch yet.

"Desmond," he said to the lawyer, "thank you for telling me all this."

"In light of everything, I know it's what John would have wanted," Desmond replied. "I'm just sorry that I didn't tell you before. John was trying to do his best for you, even if he did go about it in an imperfect way. And I was trying to keep my word to a friend."

Eric smiled sadly. "I know. And one day when I give my son the trains that Grandfather John gave to me, I'm going to tell him what a generous man my grandfather was. But for now, I'm going to feed my son by feeding his mother."


	11. Now We're Cooking

Chapter 11: Now We're Cooking

The afternoon and early evening passed quietly for Eric and Sookie as the rain continued to fall outside. Desmond had left soon after their meeting. And Niall had gone to the Foresters' home for their weekly game of bridge.

Given the fact that the game would likely last well into the night, Saturdays evenings were always a time of cooking for herself for Sookie, and she was glad to have the opportunity. Louise's food was delicious, rivaling even Gran's in a lot of ways, and the older woman was very generous about letting Sookie help in the kitchen. But Sookie enjoyed cooking her own meals too.

She hummed as she dropped another peeled potato into the pot. Eric was on carrot duty. Both of them were enjoying the simple domestic task that they'd done so often during their months together, and had been missing during their months apart.

One eye barely cracked open to watch Sookie, Ned was stretched out lazily on the smooth tile floor. The cat had been trailing Sookie around the house since she'd gotten home from the hospital as if he were worried that she might collapse again. However, he seemed torn every time that Eric and Sookie were in separate rooms. He had clearly missed his other "person" and grew restless whenever they were apart.

Eric could certainly empathize, and he reached down to rub the little cat's belly.

Sookie chuckled.

"What is it?" Eric asked, looking up at her with a smile.

"Us."

"What about us?"

"It's easy—isn't it? I mean—when it's just you and me, it's easy. Even the first time when you spoke to me at the museum."

He smiled, "You didn't speak back though."

She shrugged. "Well—the speaking wasn't easy. But I felt the connection between us. And I trusted you."

"I'm sorry I broke that trust after you told me about de Castro and Madden. I'm still sorry that I grabbed you like I did when we were in the elevator."

"For some odd reason, that didn't stop me from trusting you—even though I half expected to be arrested the next day for corporate espionage," she chuckled.

"I wasn't sure what to do about you," Eric said honestly. "All I knew was that the moment I first stood next to you, I wanted to keep standing there. No. I wanted to be closer. And that scared me."

"Are you still scared?" she asked.

"Before—I was always scared of losing you," he answered truthfully.

"And now?"

"No. I was without you for more than four months, and it was the worst time of my life—worse than any loneliness I faced as a child or any harsh word I ever had from Appius. But I'm not scared of losing you again because it's not going to happen again. I'm not going to let it."

She wiped away a tear as she looked at his face—so full of fervor and devotion for her and Johan.

He moved to stand next to her. "Don't cry, min alskade. Please."

She smiled and shook her head. "You can't ask a pregnant woman not to cry."

With a mischievous look on his face, Eric dropped to his knees and pushed her shirt over her belly. He put his hands over their baby. "Johan," he said, "you need to stop making your mommy cry. It's both of our jobs to make her happy."

Another tear slipped from Sookie's eye. "Doing things like that are not the way to get me not to cry."

Eric sighed dramatically. "It was worth a try," he said, placing a gentle kiss onto her belly. He smiled up at her. "I can't wait until you are bigger!" he added enthusiastically.

She rolled her eyes. She already had a prominent belly jutting from her body, though Dr. Ludwig had told her that she was still a little on the small side for a woman about to begin her fifth month of pregnancy. Of course, that was before Dr. Ludwig had said that she'd likely grow quickly and soon given the fact that the baby she was carrying was a little larger than normal. Sookie couldn't help but to hope that her body waited to have a growth spurt until after she and Eric got married.

"You know I'm going to be a whale—right? I mean—if Johan has even a few of your genes, he's gonna be huge."

Eric grinned and kissed her belly again. "I don't know what it is, but every time I think of you huge and pregnant because of our baby, I feel like a caveman. You. My. Woman. This. My. Baby," Eric said, in a grunt.

She giggled. "Neanderthal."

He chuckled. "I can't help it. I've always felt this sense of possessiveness over you, but because of Johan it's doubled."

"Possessiveness—eh?" she asked him with a twinkle in her eyes. "That does sound very cavemanish of you. Of course, I have to admit that I have always felt the same about you. Even when I didn't think it was possible to be with you forever, I always felt that you belonged to me."

He smiled up at her. "I did. I do."

"I guess that makes me a cavewoman."

"A feminist cavewoman?"

"Equal ownership," she laughed.

Eric kissed his son again and then talked to Sookie's belly. "One day, I will teach you to paint on walls and build fires and hunt food, while your mother invents the wheel."

Sookie giggled and ran her fingers through Eric's soft hair. However, her laughter hitched as he moved his kisses a little lower.

"You know how else I feel like a caveman?" he asked, his tone now husky.

She shook her head and muttered something incoherent as he dragged one hand down to cup her mound over her clothing. She could feel his breath on her exposed skin even as he used his other hand to push down her flannel sleep pants to expose more of that skin.

"I feel like a caveman because I want to pick you up over my shoulder and take you to a bed of furs and make love to you until the only thing you can yell out is my name."

"Eric," she moaned as his hand over her clothing began to rub. In a moment of coherent thought amidst the movement of his truly gifted fingers, she reached over and turned off the pot in which the potatoes had been boiling.

He smiled at her action even as he kissed lower. "It's been too long, my lover," he said, his smooth voice causing her to shiver a little.

Knowing that he would lose control and take her on the kitchen counter if he didn't take her to bed that very moment, Eric stood up abruptly. However, instead of throwing her over his shoulder, he picked her up bridal style so that he didn't crush his son.

She giggled at the suddenness of his action, even as he began walking purposely toward their bedroom.

"You know—soon I'll be too heavy for you to carry."

He shook his head fervently. "No. Me. Strong. Man. You. My. Woman. Me carry."

"You Tarzan, me Jane?"

They both chuckled until she noticed that her lips were right next to his beautiful neck, so she put those lips to good use.

"Oh God," he moaned, his voice immediately losing the mirth it'd had moments before as she sucked and nibbled on his neck. He quickened his pace to the room they were sharing. "Sookie," he moaned. "Promise me that you will tell me if I do anything that hurts you or Johan. Promise me that you will stop me if you get tired."

"Eric," Sookie panted. "Just make love to me. Don't worry. I know that nothing we do together will ever hurt me or our son," she assured.

He nodded and lay her onto the bed gently.

For a moment, he seemed a little uncertain, as if all their months apart—along with his worries about her pregnancy and heath—were stifling him.

"I promise," she said. "If anything seems wrong, I'll stop you."

He sighed with relief but didn't move toward her.

"Just kiss me," she whispered, looking up at him.

The fervor in her eyes caused him to comply immediately, taking her lips with his until both of them were left breathless.

"I've missed you so goddamned much," he said, as he let her up for air and began to place kisses onto her cheeks and chin and neck. It was not long before her hands were snaking under his T-shirt, and—not long after that—the garment was the first piece of clothing to be banished from their bodies. Soon they were totally bare, except for the light splint still on Sookie's wrist and the small bandage on Eric's hand. They had slept together since they'd been reunited; however, out of necessity—so that they wouldn't do something potentially dangerous to the baby before the doctor gave them the all clear—they'd been sleeping in pajamas.

They each took a moment to look at each other.

"You've lost weight," Sookie said with concern. Indeed, Eric was a little lankier than before.

"Don't worry, Lover," he said drawing his hands to cup both of her cheeks. "I'd lost my appetite for a while, but now I'm getting it back."

Sookie nodded. "Well?" she asked a bit self-consciously.

"You're beautiful," Eric said, putting his hand over her stomach. "You are beautiful as you carry our son."

She smiled as their hands began to explore each other's bodies, reacquainting themselves with the old and discovering the new about each other.

Eric kissed along the column of her neck, to her collarbones, to her breasts. And then he gently cupped them into his hands and took one into his mouth. In the last week, he'd read that women's breasts tended to be sore during pregnancy, so he was tuned into listening to any hesitation that Sookie's body conveyed.

"That feels so good," Sookie said with a moan, her fingers finding their way to his soft hair and giving it a little pull to get him to move to her other breast.

He smiled against her flesh.

Sookie seemed content to take things slowly, and Eric lavished soft kisses and caresses onto her breasts until he was reacquainted with them properly. Next he set about exploring that which was "new" about her body. He placed a light trail of kisses over Sookie's belly; the flesh there was soft from the lotion that she—and now he—rubbed on it twice a day so that she could avoid stretch marks.

"It's strange," Sookie half-whispered and half-whimpered.

"What's strange?" Eric asked.

"You kissing me and getting ready to have sex with me—all while our son is right there."

"Bad strange?" he asked, kissing her stomach again as he looked up into her eyes.

"A little weird, but not bad," she whispered. "This is how we made him—after all. I suppose I just thought that I'd feel self-conscious about the way I looked or about doing it with him inside of me."

"But you don't?" he asked, making sure. "I would never want you to feel uncomfortable."

"Oh—I'm comfortable," she sighed happily. "Very comfortable, as a matter of fact," she added with a purr.

He chuckled and continued kissing her round stomach. She still hadn't gotten too big, but Eric loved seeing the evidence that their son was nestled inside of her. He too sighed happily before moving his kisses downward, but they stayed just as gentle as before as he reached her folds. He spread her legs a little and gazed at her beautiful body for a moment before using his mouth to pleasure her. He loved the taste of her and took his time savoring, even as she began writhing below him. Her hands stayed latched in his hair, and she said nothing except his name in whispers and moans as he brought her closer and closer to release. When he knew that she was on the cusp of her orgasm, he concentrated his mouth on her clit and entered her with first one and then two fingers, moving them in and out of her body in steady, though slow, strokes that matched the action of his tongue. When he curved his fingers inward, she came hard against his hand and mouth, and he kept pumping slowly to prolong her pleasure.

"Eric, I need you," she whimpered, even before her walls had stopped pulsing. "Please, I need to feel you inside of me. I need you closer."

Eric felt a tear slip from his eye as he kissed his way up Sookie's even more beautiful and bountiful curves until he was at her mouth. Though her belly stuck out of bit, he was able to keep from putting pressure on it by holding himself up with his arms. His height gave him a great advantage, and he was still able to kiss her as he entered her from above—though he could tell that they'd be able to enjoy this position for only a little while longer before her belly was too big.

He took care to enter her slowly, giving her body time to adjust and savoring the feeling of being "home" inside of her again.

Feeling her around him caused another tear to fall from his eye.

"Are you okay?" Sookie asked breathless, breaking their kiss.

"Better than okay," he smiled as they both enjoyed the feeling of being fully connected once more. "I missed you so damned much, Sookie."

"I missed you too," she said as she cupped his cheeks with her hands. "So much."

"I'll never let you go again," he vowed.

"And I'll never go," she promised.

He began to move as she wrapped her legs around his thighs as best she could. They made love slowly, reveling in simply being together and in allowing their bodies and eyes to say the things that words never could.

However, despite trying to prolong their lovemaking for as long as possible, the fact that they'd been apart for so long, plus the fact that he'd not had a release in almost a month—plus Sookie's overactive pregnancy hormones—had them crying out each other's names sooner than either of them would have preferred, though neither was complaining as the pleasure rippled through them.

"That was . . . ." She stopped and panted as she searched for a word.

"I know," he said kissing her neck as he moved them so that she was on her side and he was spooning her.

"I can't even think of a word for it," she admitted, turning her head a little so that she could give him a little smile and a gentle kiss.

He sighed. "Neither can I. How can it be just as I remembered and so much better all at the same time?"

She giggled. "We're just lucky, I guess."

"Finally," he whispered into her golden hair. "Finally."


	12. Bachelorette, Part 1

Chapter 12: Bachelorette, Part 1

13 DAYS LATER, THE DAY BEFORE THE WEDDING

"Well?" Sookie asked nervously.

"Well—if I didn't know better, I'd say that you were progressing through a perfectly normal pregnancy," Dr. Ludwig responded, smiling at the couple in front of her.

"Excellent," Elsa Larsson said from the other side of the room. "Now, doctor, would you please explain to my grandson that it really is bad luck for a groom to see his bride on the wedding day? Let alone sleep in the same bed as she the night before! He keeps going on about magic and how you told him not to spend any lengthy amount of time away from Sookie."

Dr. Ludwig winked at Eric and then turned around to face his grandmother. "That is exactly what I told him. It is my professional opinion that these two need to stay in close proximity for the health of Sookie and the baby."

"But you just said that the pregnancy is going along well now," Elsa reminded.

"Indeed," Ludwig said. "But let's not tempt fate—shall we?" she asked with a challenge in her tone—as if taunting Elsa to argue further.

Elsa sighed loudly and glared at the doctor.

"Mormor, what is all this about?" Eric asked with suspicion in his tone. "I know for a fact that you aren't one to adhere to silly traditions."

Elsa sighed. "It is just that I was—enlisted," Elsa said guiltily, now avoiding eye contact with everyone else in the room.

"Enlisted?" Sookie asked.

Elsa sighed again—this time more loudly. "Yes—they thought it would seem less suspicious if I was the one who insisted that you adhere to that asinine and antiquated tradition. I told them that you'd never buy it, however."

"Mormor," Eric chuckled, "who is the 'they,' and what do they want to do?"

Elsa decided to give up her information. In truth, if Eric and/or Sookie thought that being together was keeping her great-grandson safe, she was not going to be the one to tempt fate! The doctor was right about that. Even though little Johan was getting closer and closer to a time when he could survive if he were born, it was still way too soon from Elsa's perspective.

"Pam, Amelia, Thalia, Lafayette, Louise, and Karen," Mormor said, listing off the conspirators with her fingers.

"What about them?" Sookie asked.

"If this has something to do with the stripper that I met at the Foresters' house when I was there, you can count me in," Dr. Ludwig said with a wink at Eric.

"Stripper!" Sookie exclaimed, immediately covering her belly with her hand defensively.

Eric laughed until he saw both Mormor's and Sookie's stern faces.

"He is not a stripper; Claude said that he should be called a gentleman entertainer," Mormor corrected. "And he does not do the full monty. I have already checked," she said with some disappointment.

At that, Eric and Sookie both looked at each other and snorted out laughs.

"He's actually a nice young man trying to put himself through college," Mormor continued. "Anthropology I think."

There were more chortles from Eric and Sookie.

"I would have thought pre-Med," Dr. Ludwig smirked, "given the doctor's uniform."

"How could they think I would like that?" Sookie asked, her eyes conveying her trepidation at the thought of being the center of attention—with a stripper dancing for her.

"I don't know," Eric said, obviously not troubled by the thought. "It might be fun."

"A 'hen party' can be quite the time," Mormor said. "I had one before I married my Johan—you know. Of course, in my day, it was just a tea with some chit-chat." She got a devilish look on her face. "Of course, our tea servers were very handsome young gentlemen in bathing costumes, but those were a bit different in my day too." She winked at Sookie. "Now men wear either those speedo things—which only one man in a thousand should wear in public, by the way—or those very loose shorts, which show absolutely nothing! In my day, young men's bathing suits were much nicer. Just tight enough to give a nice hint as what was underneath."

Sookie blushed deeply, mostly because she was suddenly thinking about Eric in his speedo. He was definitely among the one in a thousand.

"Mormor," Eric chided playfully, shaking his head, "I really don't need to hear this kind of thing from my grandmother."

Elsa shrugged. "Then put your hands over your ears, dear." She looked at Sookie and winked. "So—may I tell the conspirators that you will be there? Or will they have to turn the poor young stripper away. Claude has explained that the young man is one of his best, but I'd hate for him to have driven all this way for nothing."

Sookie looked at Eric helplessly. "I don't know about this," she whispered nervously.

Eric chuckled. "You should go to your party—for a little while." He lowered his voice so that only she could hear. "And—remember—you are in control. If you really don't want the dancer to come near you, you need only tell him."

She smiled and nodded. "Okay. But—uh—what will you be doing?"

"I'm sure that I can find something to do," he grinned.

"No female stripper for you?" Sookie asked with a giggle.

"Nope," Eric grinned, "I don't think that your honorary big brother would approve of that. He might be even more protective of you than I am."

Sookie smiled widely. "Nope, Henry would have your hide," she chuckled as she thought of her reunion with Henry a few days before. He really did feel like a true brother to her.

"Plus," Eric added, "Claude told me last week that strippers plus baby-mommas always leads to someone getting busted."

Sookie giggled again.

"Busted?" Elsa asked.

"Arrested," Eric supplied.

"Oh yes," his grandmother said primly. "Americans do have such interesting slang. Now dear," she said in Eric's direction, "run along so that I can give Sookie her final fitting for her dress before I take her to her party."

Dr. Ludwig grinned. "I'll see you there, Sookie. Of course, I'll only be going in an official capacity to—uh—monitor your health."

"I'm sure that's not all you'll be monitoring," Eric quipped.

"Make sure that Pamela gives you some of her ones. Why she wishes to have so many for just one male stripper is utterly beyond me," Elsa muttered. "He'll never fit them all in his uniform—I'm sure."

Dr. Ludwig chuckled as she left the room.

Eric bent down and kissed Sookie on the forehead. "I think you'll have fun, but please don't have too much fun with the stripper." He winked.

"And you're really okay with it—me being around someone who gets mostly naked? And—uh—jiggles around?" she asked in a whisper as a blush spread over her face.

He laughed heartily. "I'm fine as long as you don't take any of Pam's ones and you promise to come back if you start to feel tired at all," he said, kissing her forehead again before bending lower to kiss her lips gently.

"Oh for goodness sakes, you two," Mormor chided, though she was smiling. "One would think that you were going to be apart for much longer than a couple of hours." She winked at them. "It's already 6:30 p.m., and I have strict orders from the doctor to make sure you get to bed by 9:00," she said to Sookie.

"Okay," Eric said, smiling at his bride-to-be. "I'll see you in a couple of hours then."

Sookie smiled back up at him. "Have fun with the boys."

Eric left after giving her one more quick kiss.

Sookie sighed as soon as he was out the door.

Elsa looked at her affectionately. "I remember not wanting Johan to be out of my sight too," she said, with a smile that had just a bit of sadness in it. "He would be so proud that you are going to be naming your child after him."

Sookie smiled. "Eric loved his morfar very much."

Elsa nodded and unzipped the garment bag she was holding.

Sookie sighed as she always did when she saw her wedding dress. Not being able to get out of the house to shop, she had intended to wear a simple white maternity maxi-dress that she'd gotten online a couple of months before. However, when Elsa had arrived, she'd had other ideas. In fact, she had come armed with her own wedding dress, which she'd immediately gone about altering to accommodate Sookie's expanded belly. At first, Sookie was extremely hesitant about Elsa doing anything to alter her own wedding dress, but the older woman had finally convinced Sookie that the dress had been doing no one any good for decades and that Pam didn't like it enough to want to wear it. So Sookie had finally agreed to let Elsa work her magic on the garment.

With the help of Louise, who also turned out to be a whiz with needle and thread, Elsa had decided that the best strategy would be to shorten the originally floor-length dress. The dress had an empire waistline, and—luckily—the top of the dress had fit Sookie like a glove. So Elsa then cut the dress where the original empire waist had begun and used the fuller portion of the old shirt to create a new bottom to the dress. The lace overlay was also "brought up" from the bottom of the skirt. The only "rough place" in the new garment—at least according to Elsa's and Louise's sharp eyes—was where the new skirt hit the old waist line; however, they solved that issue by putting a wide satin ribbon over the connection point.

The elegant garment now fell right above Sookie's knees, but she was—frankly—grateful for a short dress, given the fact that she now seemed to be hot almost all the time.

Elsa helped Sookie slip her newly completed gown over her head and then stepped back to look at the lovely woman. She sighed. You look amazing, Sookie.

Sookie turned around so that she could see herself in the closet mirror. "Oh my goodness," she gasped as she took herself in. She smiled through her tears. "I never thought I would wear one of these," she whispered. "I never thought I would find the kind of love that Eric has given to me."

Elsa smiled softly. "You've made him so happy, Sookie. I have always worried about him so much." She closed her eyes. "After Stella died, it seemed like something in him closed down. I thought it was because he'd lost his mother, but now I know it was because of Appius." She sighed. "Eric stayed closed down like that, and no matter what Johan and I tried, we couldn't open him up. That's why we moved to the lake—you know. We loved it there, of course. But it seemed to be where Eric was most relaxed too when he was a little boy." She smiled. "He was always like a little fish. You know—Stella had him in the water when he was two weeks old. And later, Johan got the idea to build the lake house because he could recognize Eric's talent in that area."

"He built it for Eric?" Sookie asked.

"Yes. And for himself too," Elsa smiled. "My Johan liked to design and build things. He was always sketching something."

"Eric too," Sookie smiled. "Spending his summers with you and Johan was the best time of Eric's life."

Elsa's smile softened and she took Sookie's hand. "Until he met you, my dear. The first time I saw you two together, I saw something I had never seen before. The cloud that had always covered Eric had been lifted off of him."

Sookie sniffled a little and Elsa handed her a Kleenex.

"He lifted the cloud off of me too," she said.

"Yes," Elsa responded. "Adele recognized the same thing that I did."

"I'm so glad you're here, Elsa. I wish Gran were here too, but having you with me makes me feel like I have a little part of her."

It was Elsa's turn to sniffle. "I'm glad to be here for you, my dear. I love you very much, you know. And I hope that you will think of me as a grandmother now."

Sookie smiled and hugged Elsa tightly. "I already do, Mormor," she whispered, words which caused Elsa to smile brightly even as she shed a tear.

Sookie was getting more and more nervous as Elsa led her to the Foresters' house on the southeast corner of the Brigant estate. Though the dwelling had been intended for the staff, it was still a beautiful—and quite large—home. It was built in the same style as the main house and was about a five-minute walk from Niall's home.

The more Sookie had thought about the idea of a stripper, the less she'd liked it. Part of her thought that the experience might be fun, but another part of her worried that the dancer might try to do "suggestive" things with her as the target. And the thought of someone other than Eric touching her—even if it was just in the spirit of a Bachelorette party—made her cringe. Eric had reminded her that she was in control, but she didn't want to offend her hosts either.

"Are you okay, dear?" Elsa asked kindly, sensing that something was wrong.

"No," Sookie said a little shakily. "I don't really like the idea of a stripper."

Elsa sighed. "No, I don't suppose you would. I should have stopped it when I found out about it, but Pamela and Lafayette were quite adamant."

"I'm grateful to them for wanting to do something for me," Sookie said a little uncertainly.

Elsa stopped their progress. "If you do not wish to go, then I will tell them all that you were too tired. And if you do go, I will sit by you the whole time and make sure that nothing untoward happens."

Sookie sniffled. "It's just that I don't want to be the center of attention—not like I would be if a stripper was—uh—dancing for me. And I don't want someone other than Eric to—uh—touch me."

"Then he won't lay a hand on you," Mormor said firmly. "We will talk to Pamela when we get there, and I will suggest that we save the dance act until after you've gone to bed."

"I don't want to ruin any of their plans," Sookie said guiltily.

Mormor took Sookie's hand and squeezed it gently. "You are the one the party is for, dear. Thus, you should not have to be nervous about it at all!"

The two women continued walking to the Foresters' house, and as they turned the corner that would lead them to the front door, they saw Pam waiting on the porch, a grin that even the Cheshire Cat would envy across her lovely features.

"Elsa already told me what you have in there," Sookie said a little shyly. She'd certainly learned how to express her opinions and her desires during the previous year and a half, but—except with Eric—she was still a little uncomfortable doing so.

"Mormor," Pam pouted, "why did you have to ruin the surprise?"

"Ludwig let the stripper out of the bag," Elsa reported.

Pam sighed. "Oh well. We'll still have fun, but the initial," she paused, "reaction will not be as good."

Sookie bit her lip nervously and spoke seriously. "Pam, I'm glad I won't be surprised." She took a deep breath. "I know that you and the others just wanted to throw me a fun party before I got married, and it's real nice of you, so I don't want you to think I'm not appreciative. And I'll try to have fun, but . . . ." She stopped for a moment and took a steadying breath. "But I don't like the idea of people I don't know and don't welcome touching me. If this dancer is going to just be in the background doing his—uh—thing, then that's okay, but if he's gonna be touching me or something," she put her hand protectively over her belly, "I don't think I want to stay." Sookie quickly wiped a tear from her eye.

Pam immediately looked concerned as she saw genuine fear flash across Sookie's features. She moved forward to embrace her soon-to-be sister-in-law. "I'm sorry, Sookie, but don't worry." She smiled kindly, an unusual expression for her. "We just wanted you to have the 'bachelorette" experience. But we went for cheesy, not sleazy. I got the dancers the most ridiculous, over-the-top costumes too. And, actually, I figured you wouldn't enjoy anything too risqué, so the dancers have been told to stay in just one area of the room, so if you don't want them to touch you, you won't have to be in that part of the room at all—but I'll make it very clear to them that they're not to approach you. And, no matter how much Lafayette begs, I've instructed them not to put on those disgusting male G-strings!" she added seriously.

Sookie chuckled a little.

"So they'll be in these tacky glittery speedos," Pam clarified.

Sookie laughed a little louder.

"You can consider them background noise. I promise, Sookie," Pam said. "Plus, they're Claude's employees, and Claude's here, so nothing will happen that would make you uncomfortable. And—if it does—I'll tell them to stop performing until after you've gone."

Sookie sighed with relief. "Really?"

Pam nodded. "Really. Mostly, we were just going to have a bit of fun with teasing you about them, so there's no need to worry."

"And they—uh—won't touch me?" Sookie asked.

"No," Pam said quickly.

Sookie smiled. "Thanks Pam. I don't mean to ruin your plans or anything."

"You aren't," Pam assured. "Now—are you going to tell me why you looked afraid a moment ago?"

Sookie took in a deep breath and looked from Elsa to Pam. She'd told only a couple of people about Uncle Bartlett—mostly because the thought of what had happened to her had once seemed like something she needed to "hide." But—looking at the loving faces of her soon-to-be family, she realized that she had nothing to hide and even less to be ashamed of.

"When I was little, my mother let an uncle of hers babysit me. He was a pedophile, and though he never raped me, he did touch me," Sookie explained, standing up as straight as she could.

"Oh my poor child!" Elsa exclaimed, immediately pulling Sookie into a hug.

"Is the bastard still alive?" Pam asked, her tone murderous.

Sookie shook her head. "It doesn't matter. He doesn't matter."

"No—he doesn't," Elsa agreed. She looked at Sookie proudly. "You are brave for telling us this, Sookie. Thank you for trusting us."

"I will get rid of the strippers," Pam said. "If I'd have known, I'd have never gotten them."

"No," Sookie responded, squaring her shoulders, "it'll be funny to watch Dr. Ludwig and the others ogle them, and—as long as they are aware of the rules—I'll be fine."

Pam looked at Sookie through narrowed eyes as if to make sure. "Yes—you will, Sookie. You will definitely be fine." She stepped forward and pulled Sookie into another hug. "I'm proud you're going to be my sister, Sook. I couldn't love you more if you were my flesh and blood."

Sookie pulled back a little and went to speak, but Pam—never one to be comfortable with extended displays of emotions—waved her off.

"Anyway—there's a room full of presents and people who want to throw you one last bash before you marry my big brother."

Sookie smiled. "Sounds good."

"Pamela, dear," Elsa said, looking toward the front door with curiosity, "did you say there would be multiple gentleman entertainers. I only met one."

Pam winked at Sookie. "I got the second one especially for you, Mormor. He's a fireman."

Elsa's eyes lit up as Pam and Sookie giggled.


	13. Bachelorette, Part 2

Chapter 13: Bachelorette, Part 2

Sookie smiled as she looked around the room. She couldn't deny that she'd had a great time for the past hour and a half. There had been wonderful food, including hors d'oeuvres made from all the foods that Sookie had been craving. And Pam had been right; there were tons of presents, some of them of the blush-inducing lingerie variety.

True to her word, Pam had made sure that the dancers hadn't done anything to make Sookie uncomfortable. In fact, their antics were quite amusing. Currently, the dancers were grinding around the people who were putting the most dollar bills into their outfits: Lafayette, Doctor Ludwig, Louise, and Mormor, whom Sookie had told to "go have fun" once she felt comfortable.

"You okay?" Claudine asked as she sat down next to her.

"Very," Sookie answered.

"I wasn't sure about all this when I realized what Pam's plans were," Claudine said in a low voice even as she tilted her head to the side so that she could better see the fireman who was currently shaking his bottom in a way that Sookie would have thought was impossible.

Sookie giggled. "I wasn't sure either, but it's okay," she whispered. "As soon as I realized that I didn't have to let them touch me, and as soon as I shared my concerns with Elsa and Pam, I felt better."

Claudine turned her attention from the gorgeous undulating men to Sookie. "I am very proud of you, Sookie." She chuckled. "A therapist isn't really supposed to say things like that. We're supposed to use phrases like, 'You are making good progress,' so that our patients never feel compelled to try to please us instead of to heal themselves." Claudine sighed. "But given your connection to Amelia, I always thought of you more as a friend than a client, and now—of course—it's even better because you are my cousin! And I wanted you to know how remarkable I think you are doing."

Still in a low voice, Claudine continued, "In reaction to the kind of abuse you suffered, I have seen people become abusers themselves. I have also seen them hide so thoroughly from the world out of fear that they can never find true happiness. But you didn't allow your abusers to touch your heart, Sookie. You and Eric are alike in that way. And I am so glad that you two found each other."

Sookie sniffled a little and took Claudine's hand. "You helped me so much—you know. I don't think I would be sitting here if you wouldn't have handed me your card that day—if you wouldn't have cared enough to want to help me. For what it's worth—I'm proud of you too. And proud to call you my friend—and my family."

Claudine smiled. "It's worth a lot Sookie."

After a hug, the two women turned their attention back to the show happening across the room. This time, they both tilted their heads to better appreciate a move that the "doctor" was doing with his stethoscope.

"He has to be double-jointed," Claudine mused.

"Or do yoga every day," Sookie posited as they watched the "doctor" do the splits in front of a blushing Elsa.

Sookie and Claudine giggled as the elderly woman placed another dollar bill into the pocket of the "doctor's" very snug uniform.

"How does she look dignified even doing that?" Sookie asked, which caused her and her cousin to succumb to another laughing fit.

And the smile stayed on Sookie's face. "I can't tell you how grateful I am that Niall is hosting all of these people for me."

Claudine squeezed Sookie's hand again. "And I cannot tell you how grateful that all of us are that you are family. It's like a miracle, and you have given us all so much joy. I know that Niall just wants to give a little back to you."

Sookie nodded and squeezed her cousin's hand back. Actually, they were third cousins, once removed, according to Niall, but they weren't counting. They were just both happy to have more family.

In fact, Sookie felt surrounded by family in that moment. Though not everyone she might have wanted to be there would be able to attend her and Eric's wedding, Niall had managed to sneak quite a few people in, despite the fact that Sigebert had been seen sniffing around by Sean and Mikey. Mormor had arrived a little over a week before, but her presence could be explained by Eric's "breakdown," which continued to be the excuse that Eric was using to stay in the Hamptons, instead of going to Northman Tower to work. The week before, Eric had cancelled his trip to Sweden for the summer, and the official word around the office was that he was spending his annual vacation "in seclusion."

Pam had called Appius—only a few hours after Eric's apparent breakdown—and had told him about it. Of course, she had merely recalled a fraction of what Appius would have already seen from his surveillance equipment. The next day—at Northman Tower where Appius could monitor her call—Pam had phoned Elsa, who had already been prepped by Eric about what to expect. Proving what a wonderful actress she could be, Pam had told Elsa about Eric's breakdown. A week later, Pam had made a second call to Elsa, explaining that Eric was even more despondent and had even cancelled his trip to come see her in Sweden. Elsa had made immediate plans to come to the Hamptons after that phone call.

Claudine and Bobby had both been to Niall's house several times—since they could do so without arousing suspicion. Pam had also visited a few times; thus, their presence in the house for Sookie and Eric's wedding would not be suspicious at all. Bringing in the other wedding guests had been a bit more difficult, but nothing too trying for the little band of confederates. Eric had surprised Sookie by flying in Lafayette. Part of Sookie wished that Tara could be there too, but—frankly—neither Sookie nor Eric was able to place too much trust in her.

In addition, Thalia had come to the house with Bobby—again, not suspicious given the fact that they were a couple. Amelia had snuck up with Pam. And Henry and Blake would be snuck in the next day via Niall's limo.

Sookie and Eric both wished that Ben, Milos, Tony, Doris, Rasul, Trey, Miranda, Jarod, Remy, and Hunter could be there, but they didn't want to risk the group becoming too large. And, after a discussion, Eric had decided that Gracie was too young to have to keep a secret from their father. The previous Sunday had been the annual Father's Day brunch—which Eric hadn't attended, per his agreement with Appius—and Pam had indicated "in private" to Nora that Eric was still getting worse. The hope was that Appius wouldn't become suspicious even if Sigebert noticed a lot of activity around Niall's estate.

Meanwhile, Niall was bustling around like a fifty-year-old, enlivened by his "new" company, especially the company of one Elsa Larsson, whom Niall had called a "grand lady." Sookie could tell that Elsa thought Niall was pretty "grand" as well.

Sookie's musings were interrupted when the front door opened and Bobby came inside. Immediately, his eyes searched for and landed on Thalia, and the two shared a smile. Sookie knew that Bobby had finally told Thalia how he felt about her, and the couple seemed even more serious now. Sookie had not seen them together much, but she could certainly tell that Thalia returned Bobby's love.

After taking in his own beloved, Bobby turned his attention toward Sookie and Claudine. He came over and sat on the other side of Sookie. "Hi cousins," he greeted.

"Here to see the strippers, cuz?" Claudine quipped.

Bobby tilted his head and looked at the "doctor" performing the splits again. "That should be against the law," he said, cringing a little.

"You're just saying that because he makes you look bad," Claudine kidded.

Bobby shrugged. "Hey—I hold my own."

"TMI," Claudine said to her cousin.

Sookie giggled, enjoying their banter.

Bobby winked at Sookie. "Actually, I'm here to escort you back to your man when you are ready."

Sookie smiled. "What have you guys been doing?"

Bobby grinned. "Henry and Blake came a night early, and we have been smoking cigars and testing Niall's scotches."

Sookie smiled a little wider. "Henry's here?"

Bobby nodded.

"And he and Blake didn't want to come down here and watch this?" Sookie asked as the "fireman" once more shook his bottom as if it were on fire.

Bobby shuddered a little. "Nah—Eric offered, but they opted for the expensive scotch," he chuckled. "Plus, Niall was in the Navy, and once he and Henry got to talking, that was it."

Sookie sighed happily. She was glad that Henry was there. In the last year and a half, she'd had many additions to her life—including a long-lost family—but Henry, for some reason, had been the name that had popped into her head when Eric asked whom she would like to stand next to her when she got married. Maybe it was because he "felt" like the brother she'd always wished she'd had. Or maybe it was because—other than Eric—Henry was the person who made her feel the calmest. She'd been thrilled when he'd agreed to be her best man.

As would be expected, Eric had chosen Bobby to stand beside him.

"You about ready?" Bobby asked. "I know that Eric is anxious to have you back with him."

Sookie looked across the room, where the dancers were still gyrating and the others were still feeding dollar bills into their scant clothing. Dr. Ludwig and Elsa seemed to have convinced the "fireman" that they should do body shots.

"Do you think they'll even miss me?" Sookie asked Claudine with a laugh.

"Of course," she responded. "But then they will be distracted when the dancers are freed to work the room," she added with a wink.

Bobby growled a little as he looked back at Thalia.

Claudine rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that you have nothing to worry about," she said as she tilted her head once more to follow the movements of the "doctor." She giggled. "Or maybe you do."

All three cousins chuckled at that.

"Did you enjoy the show?" Bobby asked, his brown eyes teasing, as he walked Sookie back over to Niall's house.

"Truthfully?" Sookie asked.

"Sure," Bobby said.

"Yes. But the real show wasn't those guys dancing. It was seeing so many people I love enjoying themselves."

Bobby squeezed Sookie's arm, which was tucked into his. "I think if I had gone around the wide world looking for the perfect woman for Eric, I would have found you."

Sookie smiled. "I used to think that I didn't deserve him," she confessed, looking up at the lights on in Niall's house as they approached it.

"He used to think the same about you," Bobby said quietly.

"And now?" Sookie asked.

Bobby sighed. "Sometimes, I think that he's still in a state of disbelief. I'll catch him looking at you when you don't see, and his expression always looks surprised."

Sookie squeezed Bobby's arm. "I know," she said, holding onto her belly with her free hand. "Part of him still doesn't think he deserves all this."

"And you?" Bobby asked astutely.

Sookie sighed. "At my worst times, I still don't think I'm worthy of Eric. And I'm scared that I won't make a good mother. But—at my best times—I'm just thankful for what I have. And I think that staying thankful is the most important thing."

Bobby looked down at her and smiled. "As I said, if I would have looked everywhere in the world, it would have always been you that I would have brought back for him."

Sookie looked up at Bobby and smiled. "You know that I will always love you for being so willing to go around the world time and time again for him—right?"

Bobby nodded and brought Sookie's hand up to his lips to kiss before opening the front door for her.

"Come on. Henry and Blake want to say, 'hi.' And then there's a surprise waiting for you in your room, cuz," he smiled as he closed the door behind them.

The surprise turned out to be Eric dressed in full—though faux—Viking regalia.

The sight left Sookie speechless and immediately wet. She could have blamed pregnancy hormones, but she knew that the real culprit was the one dancing seductively in front of her.

She had a sudden thought that Eric would put Claude's dancers to shame, even if he couldn't do the splits or gyrate his butt like a Shake-Weight.

As Eric turned around and slowly swayed his own beyond perfect bottom, Sookie's breath caught. Yep—definitely the best dancer she'd seen that night!

"I thought you might want your own personal stripper," Eric purred as he turned back around and crooked his finger for her to come to him.

As it turns out, she did want him. Twice.


	14. Nothing More Admirable

Chapter 14: Nothing More Admirable

"There is nothing nobler or more admirable than when two people who see eye to eye keep house as man and wife, confounding their enemies and delighting their friends."—Homer

"Nervous?" Niall asked.

Sookie shook her head as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were already brimming with moisture—given the emotion of the day and her hormones. However, the shiny tears in her eyes no longer made her think of her mother's critiquing eyes in the same way they once had. Still, Sookie couldn't help but to think of her mother on—this—her wedding day. She sighed. In truth, Michelle's voice still sprang into her head every now and then, but there were many, many things to help Sookie block out her mother's negativity.

One of them was kicking some sense into her even then.

"The baby kicking?" Niall asked excitedly. None of his own grandchildren had given him great-grandchildren yet, so Niall had happily adopted Sookie's as his first, even though the child would literally be his first cousin—though four times removed. And he didn't intend to own to the "great" part of the "grandfather" label—except when it came to quality.

"Yes," she smiled.

"May I?" he asked.

She nodded, and he put his hand over her belly where she indicated.

He chuckled as he felt little Johan kicking. "My Viola and I had only one child, but I always wanted an army of them," he grinned.

"Sookie?" came Henry's voice from behind her.

She turned around and faced her friend—her adopted brother. Henry smiled brightly. "You look beautiful," he said, his eyes shining.

"And you look handsome," Sookie smiled. Eric, Henry, and Bobby were all dressed in all black, though because of the warm temperature, they had opted for vests instead of suit jackets. One burst of color, a boutonniere of a single yellow ranuculus, contrasted the black.

"Everything's ready." He chuckled. "And by everything, I mean Eric. He's chomping at the bit."

Sookie giggled and looked at her bare left hand. Her ring was currently tucked into Bobby's vest pocket, just as the ring she'd gotten for Eric was in Henry's pocket. Sookie had opted for a simple white gold band for Eric. She'd had the ring inscribed with the same word that she'd found inside of her own ring: "forever." She was ready to get her ring back on her finger, which felt odd and empty without it now.

"I'm ready too," she said.

"I'll tell him that," Henry smiled. "And I'll tell them to start the music. I'll see you down there in a few minutes," he said as he kissed her cheek.

Sookie nodded as she gave herself one last appraisal in the mirror. The temporary red hair coloring had long since faded, so her hair shone with its natural blond color. Amelia had styled her locks into a braided bun, and daffodils arranged in the bun complemented her own hue. Her make-up was light, and she wore minimal jewelry—only the dangling yellow diamond earrings that Eric had put into her stocking the Christmas before. Niall handed her the bouquet that Louise had constructed from yellow tulips and daffodils from the garden and then offered her his arm.

Sookie smiled and took it.

Eric shifted from his left foot to his right. In truth, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. He worried that—any minute—Appius would come bursting through the gates to destroy that which Eric loved the most. But when he glanced toward the driveway, he saw only Sean and Mikey, dressed a bit nicer than usual and looking on at the festivities.

He felt a soft hand press into his and he looked down at his mormor.

"It's okay," she whispered to him. "Nothing is going to interfere with this happy day."

He nodded. "I know. It's just that . . . ." He stopped.

"Things have never been okay for you before," Mormor finished for him. "I know. But now, things will be different."

Eric nodded again, trying to believe her.

"She's ready," Henry said, coming up to them. "And she's gorgeous."

Suddenly Eric's fears diminished as he thought about his bride.

Mormor patted his arm and then took her seat as Eric and Henry took their places by the minister; Bobby joined them moments later after getting the music started.

The wedding was simple. The "orchestra" was Bobby's ipod set to a selection of the soundtrack from The Mission, played by Yo-Yo Ma. The piece of music was one that Eric knew how to play on the piano, and it had become one of Sookie's favorite selections during her time with him. Ma's cello version was a lovely adaptation of the piece.

The pews were simple white folding chairs, two rows with ten each—with a "center aisle" in the middle of the row. The "church" was Jake's garden, blooming with an array of flowers. There was not an elaborate cake, though Louise and Karen had made a large white sheet cake. There was not a feast to be had after the wedding, though Louise and Mormor had made a nice buffet for the small party—and Ned even had a special bowl with tuna waiting for him. There was not an army of bridesmaids and groomsmen; only Bobby and Henry stood with Eric by the minister, with Henry being Sookie's attendant. Eric was not dressed in a tux. He had on black trousers, a black shirt, and a black vest. He didn't even have on a tie. And he knew that Sookie's gown would not be cathedral length, nor would she have a long veil trailing her.

But as Eric looked around, he couldn't imagine a more perfect setting or moment. And that's when he knew that he would be safe from Appius, for his father wouldn't understand such a moment; thus, he wouldn't know how to look for it—let alone find it.

Eric closed his eyes and smiled. And for the first time that day, he let himself truly relax.

When he open his eyes, he saw her walking toward him on Niall's arm.

"Sookie," he whispered to himself, knowing that she would be able to read her name on his lips even though she was still 20 feet from him.

She looked radiant. Her dress was short, but lovely, and it perfectly fit both her personality and her body. She smiled as she walked toward him, and her hand was reaching out for his even when she was still several steps away. He stepped forward to give it purchase in his own outstretched hand.

Niall patted Eric affectionately on the back.

"Beautiful," Eric mouthed. "You're beautiful."

Sookie smiled at him radiantly.

The next few minutes went by in a blur for the couple as the stared at each other. Neither of them had felt the need to exchange elaborate vows; the "ceremony" that they'd had together on their bed in January had already married them in their hearts. The minister was there to make things official, and their friends and family were there to celebrate with them.

Thus, they repeated the standard—though beautiful—vows that the minister prompted them to say. They promised once more to love each other and to keep that love strong in good and bad times. They promised fidelity. They promised to stay together as long as they both lived.

Then they exchanged rings. First, Sookie slipped Eric's ring onto his finger, and both of them smiled to see it there, happy that it would tell anyone who saw it that he belonged to her. After that, Eric once again slipped Sookie's ring onto her finger, which—thankfully—hadn't swollen too much because of her pregnancy. This time, however, the ring had even more meaning to both Sookie and Eric. For Eric, it represented a family that his father couldn't stop him from becoming a part of. For Sookie it represented a family that had accepted her with open arms.

Moments later, the minister announced that they were married, and then Eric got to do what he had been aching to do since he first saw Sookie walking to him.

He got to kiss his bride.


	15. A Matter of DNA

Chapter 15: A Matter of DNA

Appius Northman tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk. He'd sent Andre out on an errand, wanting not even his lover to know what he was up to for once.

Freyda came out of the bathroom holding the little stick which would be a big factor in determining her continued worth to him. "Are you sure he will go along with this?" she asked nervously. "After all—the last time I saw him, he seemed to hate me."

Appius smiled a little. "Oh—he'll go along."

"I've bet everything on this," Freyda said softly. "Bet everything on you."

"Do not worry," Appius said. "I've gotten my hands on the information concerning the kinds of drugs his psychiatrist has him on. Given the disorientation such drugs can cause, it will be easy enough to convince him that you two had a little encounter when he was incapacitated by them."

"He'll want a DNA test," Freyda said.

"Yes—and it will come up with enough matches to convince him," Appius assured. "Hell," he laughed, "even if he's not full convinced, he'll go along."

"Is he really that," Freyda paused, "broken?" Her expression held as much hope as concern.

Appius nodded. "Oh yes."

Freyda's phone alarm went off and she looked down at the little stick. A sick smile spread across her face.

"We're pregnant," she said.

"You and Eric are pregnant," Appius corrected. Though he had fucked Freyda a few times during her most fertile time the previous month, Appius had no intention of claiming the mutt. Appius held in his cringe. Screwing Freyda had not been a pleasant exercise—even though he had always taken her from behind so that he didn't have to look at her. She had even moaned out Eric's name as Appius had cum inside of her. It was not an experience Appius had wanted to experience again. He was glad he wouldn't have to.

"What now?" Freyda asked.

"Well—now that you know you are pregnant, we'll leak the tape of you and 'Eric' together."

Freyda smiled lovingly—and crazily. "Yes. We should do that. That will bring him home to me and his baby."

Appius was pretty certain that Freyda now believed that the little tape she had made with an actor was actually of her and Eric. Debbie Pelt had snuck Appius, Freyda, and a clean-up crew—as well as a young, discreet actor, who happened to be 6'5"—into Eric's home a few days after his breakdown. The actor had been willing to get a little haircut and to dye his hair blonde for the role.

The clean-up crew had put Eric's bedroom to rights, even replacing his lamps with two that were identical to those which had been there before. Thanks to the video feed in the room and several pictures taken by Pelt, all objects could be matched perfectly. Then the performance had begun as Freyda and the actor had sex—or at least seemed to—in Eric's bed. Of course, it wouldn't have been appropriate for them to actually do the deed—though the footage might have been more convincing if they had. No—Appius thought to himself—his was the only seed he had wanted to fertilize Freyda's womb.

Of course, Appius's surveillance equipment had caught Freyda having sex with the Eric look-alike, and thanks to the magic of editing, a friend of Lorena's at the FBI was able to splice together some past pictures of Eric coming out of his bathroom and seemingly crawling into bed with a waiting Freyda. Footage of Freyda moaning beneath the actor—who had his back to the camera and was mostly covered by a blanket, of course—was added to the mix, and soon it seemed as if Freyda and Eric had actually had sex, especially given the graininess purposely added to the video.

Appius sighed. As Freyda and the actor had made their little video, he'd taken a good look around the parts of Eric's home that he'd never seen before. There had been many things that Appius would expect a young man like Eric to have: a pool table, a hot tub looking out over the city, and gaming systems. However, there were other pieces of Eric's home that gave Appius more insight into his eldest child. For instance, Eric apparently liked bathing—as one of his rooms' main pieces of furniture consisted of a bathtub. There was also a sauna—no doubt due to preferences that Eric had picked up in Sweden. Appius tried not to remember how much Stella had enjoyed saunas or how much they had enjoyed them together at times.

Appius had been surprised to see a piano in the residence, and, given the well-worn nature of some of the sheet music, it was clear that Eric played a lot. Chopin's "Prelude in E-Minor" seemed to have been the last piece played, and Appius pressed the first few notes of the somber tome.

As Freyda prattled on about nursery ideas, he smiled a little, imagining Eric playing the sad piece of music as he thought about his lost love.

Eric's misery was most clear as Appius took in his closet. Remnants of Sookie Stackhouse were present—pieces left behind in her haste to leave. All of the drawers of one of the dressers were empty. And one of the clothing racks, which had obviously belonged to Sookie, had only a few items of clothing on it—cheap suits that the woman had obviously worn to work.

Once upon a time, a similar closet had plagued Appius. After he'd found out about Stella's betrayal, he'd immediately stripped most of her things from the room that they'd shared. But there had been a few things that he'd been unable to touch for many years: the dress she'd been wearing when he'd asked her to be his wife, the shoes she'd squealed over when he'd given them to her two Christmases before she'd died, the maternity dress that she'd worn almost exclusively during the last month of her pregnancy with Eric since nothing else seemed to fit, the sweater that always seemed to catch and then hold her scent. Those pieces had been his own personal torment for many, many years. Now, only the sweater remained, buried at the bottom of the bottom drawer in his dresser. He took it out only in his weakest moments; however, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of it. Somehow, even after more than twenty-five years, it still smelled of her.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and concentrated on the woman in front of him and the torment that she represented for Eric. He smiled a little.

The elder Northman knew that Eric had been to his home only once since he'd gone to the Hamptons—a week or so before. Franklin had almost missed him being there, but Eric had most certainly come to the house for a few hours—though he had, unfortunately, stayed out of the master bedroom where Appius had video surveillance. The key was that Eric had been in the house for plenty of time for him to have had an "encounter" with Freyda. Franklin had captured some photos of Eric exiting the building through a side door, and the time stamp on the pictures coincided within two days of Appius fucking Freyda.

It was perfect. When he returned home, Eric would be mystified by how his bedroom had been put back together. However, a suggestion from Debbie Pelt, who was becoming more and more useful, would lead Eric to believe that he had arranged for the room to be put to rights and the damaged items replaced. She would tell him—sympathetically, of course—that he had seemed "quite out of it" the day he'd returned to his house. And she would also convey that he had seemed very happy when she'd "helped" by letting Freyda into the back door of the building.

Debbie's testimony, plus the video, would lead Eric to believe that the drugs he was taking had affected him—to the point that his memories couldn't be trusted. Indeed, if they were all lucky, he would accept Debbie's testimony and believe that he'd slept with Freyda while under the influence of his medication.

After all—what reason would Eric have for doubting one of Henry Jiles's trusted guards?

And then there would be the DNA test. Appius already had a doctor picked out—the same one who had done the DNA testing on Eric, him, and Peder. That test had not turned out how Appius had wanted, but it hadn't been the doctor's fault. The test had been irrefutable, and—though Appius had been enraged and shocked to find out that Eric was his—he wasn't about to lie to Eric and Peder, at least, not after he saw how much the two genuinely "wanted" to be father and son.

No. Eric's belonging to Appius had been an inconvenience; however, more troubling to the elder Northman would have been the thought of Peder enjoying another thing which was Appius's by right. First—it had been Stella. Then—it would have been Eric. And Appius wouldn't have that, so he'd had the doctor report the actual findings.

Now—he wanted the doctor to report something slightly "different." For Eric to believe them, the results would have to be the "real" ones; hell—Eric might even demand a second DNA test from his own doctors as confirmation. But Appius understood the power of "spin." And he wanted his own doctor to spin things first. He wanted his doctor to play up the similarities between Eric's DNA and the child's—to give Eric the report that he shared enough markers with the child to "likely" be the father. If the child was a boy, things would be even easier. To compare a son's DNA to his possible father's, a Y chromosome test—instead of a full DNA test—was generally performed. After all, it was the Y chromosome that had to have come from the father. And Eric got his Y chromosome from Appius. Thus, that kind of test would indicate that Eric was a very likely candidate for the child's father.

As Appius looked at Freyda, who was so gleefully examining the stick that confirmed her pregnancy, he feared that he might not get away with what he was trying to get away with. The footage that Appius would be leaking the next day would be a double-edged sword. It would indicate that Eric had slept with Freyda; however, it would also tell Eric that he was being filmed. Eric could add 2 and 2, so he would initially believe that Appius was the one doing the watching.

However, Freyda was prepared to lie and tell Eric that she had put in the camera to capture their "passionate rendezvous." To help that story along, Appius had—much to his regret—removed all of the surveillance equipment from Eric's home so that it couldn't be traced. With any luck, Eric would believe that Freyda was just into making sex tapes. That would go along with Freyda's obsessive personality, after all. Indeed, at a certain time during their dealing over the past several months, Appius had been nervous that Freyda was going to become fixated on him instead of staying obsessed with Eric!

But thankfully, Appius was the king of "spinning" things. And he'd "spun" Freyda's affections right back toward Eric.

"What about Isabel?" Freyda asked with derision in her tone. "Do you think she'll do anything to stop Eric and me from being together?"

Appius shook his head. "No," he responded coolly. "Isabel will most likely dump Eric by the end of the week. After all, she is not with him out of love."

Freyda smiled. "Not like I am."

Appius cringed a little at the apparently delusional girl in front of him. He'd thought about letting things slide and allowing Eric to have his "lukewarm happily ever after" with the Edgington girl, but the more that he'd considered that fate during the last months, the more he'd realized that that would be too easy for his son. That was why he'd contacted Freyda to help him with his new plan. Even if everything blew up in Appius's face—and even if it was proven that he was the father of Freyda's child rather than Eric—Appius would still have the consolation that such a scandal would scare away most women so that they wouldn't be willing to marry Eric. And Appius was certain that Russell wouldn't allow his daughter to marry into such a situation.

And—as for Appius—he knew that he would come out of the other end of a scandal relatively unscathed. He would simply claim that Freyda—in all of her "insanity"—had seduced him, hoping to produce a child with whom to trick Eric. Appius would claim ignorance and innocence, and he and Sophie-Anne could have a public separation and then an even more public reunion. High society loved its reconciliation stories even more than its scandals.

Appius sighed and took a drink of his scotch. He was playing a dangerous game with the unstable woman in front of him. The good news was that she had practically already convinced herself that Eric was the father of her child, which would help immensely when she had to face Eric—and the cameras. The bad news was that Eric might not go along with things; Appius, however, was hopeful that his son had been broken enough to grasp at anything tangible that might give him any modicum of happiness, and a child—even with someone as unstable as Freyda—would do just that. Appius was betting on his eldest son's honor.

However, if nothing else, Appius was determined to sabotage all of his son's relationships until the time when he was 35. After that, it wouldn't matter. If Eric were unmarried by 35, Appius would be allowed—under the terms of the contract—to choose Eric's wife. And—even if it didn't turn out to be Freyda—he would choose someone who he could control and someone who would make Eric miserable.

Appius smiled. Freyda was bound to complicate things for Eric, and—if the little lip-reader who still eluded him was paying any attention—the situation would hurt her too. Appius's smile widened. He had a lot to be happy about. After all, he was going to be a grandfather soon.


	16. Fallout

Chapter 16: Fallout

FIVE DAYS LATER

Bobby sighed deeply as he parked his car, grateful for the little squeeze that Thalia gave his hand. He was certainly man enough to admit that he needed her with him. Not only was she a comfort, but she was also the best sounding board he knew—and the smartest person.

Soon after they'd seen the newspaper that morning, he and Thalia had driven to Niall's home. And they had not been the only ones.

Bobby wasn't surprised to see Claudine and Desmond Cataliades as he led Thalia into Niall's office. But he had been surprised to see that Elsa was still there. She'd been planning to return to Sweden the day after the wedding. Bobby looked at her and then at Niall. Unusually, his great-uncle seemed to be avoiding Bobby's eyes, and there was a subtle touch of pink to his cheeks. Bobby looked back at Elsa, from whom he received a quirked brow and an unapologetic smirk.

"You are too observant for your own good, Bobby Burnham," Elsa chuckled by way of greeting.

Niall cleared his throat and turned to face the room. "You might as well all know that Elsa and I are now keeping company with one another."

Elsa's lips twitched upward. "Yes. So I have decided to extend my stay—at least until the baby comes."

Claudine giggled, "Way to go, Gramps."

Niall's cheeks went even more noticeably red, but instead of chastising his granddaughter, he winked and smiled at her. "I know."

Everyone in the room chuckled until all of their eyes fell onto the muted television. Immediately, Niall turned up the volume.

With disbelief, they all watched the grainy footage of Eric and Freyda in Eric's bedroom. They could clearly make out Eric getting into the bed where she lay. And then the image picked back up—after a content warning from the newscaster. The picture showed Eric and Freyda having sex in a place where Bobby knew that Eric had never invited the unstable woman.

Of course, the leaked sex-tape had immediately become a scandal, and within an hour, the gossip was "news" as New York's morning programs picked up and commented on the story. Half an hour later, "news" teams and paparazzi were stationed outside of the Edgington estate, hoping to get a statement from Isabel or Russell about Eric's apparent infidelity. The so-called reporters were having a field-day talking about the high-society love triangle, especially given the fact that it involved three of New York's most prominent families: the Northmans, the Edgingtons, and the de Castros.

After all—who didn't like seeing the rich fall?

As everyone who was gathered in Niall's library looked on warily, the reporter promised that an "exclusive interview" with Freyda de Castro was coming up after the commercial break. They all held their breaths.

"Is there any way at all this could be true?" Cataliades asked with regret in his voice that he'd been the one to vocalize the question.

"No," Bobby said quickly. "Freyda has never been into Eric and Sookie's home—and Eric would certainly not take her into the bedroom. No one but Sookie has been there."

"The time stamp on the video is from the day that Eric went to Manhattan," Niall said, though he managed to keep the accusation out of his voice. "And there are other images of him going in and out of his building through a side entrance."

Bobby sighed. "I know. We allowed Franklin to get a look at us that day."

"Did you stay with Eric at his house while he was there?" Elsa asked.

Bobby shook his head. "No. I went home for a few hours to finish drafting the prenuptial agreement that Eric and Sookie wanted." Eric hadn't wanted for Appius to be able to get anywhere near Sookie's fortune.

Mr. Cataliades sighed and once more asked the question that they were all reticent to even consider. "Is there any way?"

"No!" Bobby answered, this time much more sternly. Everyone in the room looked at each other, and all shook their heads to confirm Bobby's words.

"Then the footage has been altered," the lawyer said.

Bobby nodded. "It has to have been." He took his phone out and sent a quick text. "I'll get a copy of the tape from a contact of mine at this station," he said, gesturing toward the logo of the local FOX affiliate on the television screen.

"Good," Niall said.

They all turned back to the screen as the promised interview with Freyda began.

The so-called journalist looked at the brunette sympathetically. "Miss de Castro, thank you so much for joining us today to give us your reaction to the footage that was first shown on late last night. I know that this has been quite an ordeal for you, and our viewers appreciate your telling us your side."

"Thanks for having me on your program," Freyda said. Her eyes looked puffy as if she'd been crying. However, she was dressed in a beautiful cream colored suit and her hair was in a perfect and somewhat demure bun.

The reporter gave Freyda the opening to tell her story "in her own words," and immediately Freyda was off to the races. She indicated first how sorry she was where Isabel Edgington was concerned, but she claimed that a love as strong as hers and Eric's couldn't—in the end—be denied. Next, Freyda confirmed that she and Eric were indeed the couple in the "sex-tape." She cried a little as she explained her feelings of betrayal that someone had taped such "a private, intimate, and loving moment" between her and Eric. She threatened to sue whomever was guilty of making the recording and then publicizing the footage. And she assured that neither she nor Eric had been responsible for the tape.

The reporter asked if she had any idea how the footage had been taken, and Freyda speculated that someone in Eric's building may have put up the camera in his bedroom in order to capture the affair she and Eric were having in order to get a pay-off from the Paparazzi.

When the reporter asked if she knew anything about Eric's reaction to the tape, Freyda broke down into tears again—telling of Eric's "breakdown." She claimed that Eric could no longer take the strain of denying his love for her nor the guilt of cheating on Isabel. She said that he was currently out of Manhattan "seeking treatment." However, she vowed that she was going to stand by Eric no matter what. And then she dropped her real bombshell. She announced that she and Eric were expecting "their first child."

As soon as the interview had ended, there was a collective sigh in the room.

"Should I go get them?" Bobby asked.

"No," Elsa said firmly. "Eric and Sookie will be back in two days anyway. Let's give them that time and try to figure out what's going on in the meantime."

Bobby gave Elsa a little smile. Eric's mormor truly was an amazing and strong woman.

Niall sighed. "Okay—so we need to figure out how to prove that the tape is a fake. And—if Freyda is indeed pregnant—we'll just get a DNA test to show that Eric's not the father."

"This has Appius written all over it," Bobby growled. "He's the one with the video feed." Quickly, he dialed his phone. "Henry?" he said when his call was picked up. There was a pause as Henry said something—a very loud something. He'd obviously seen Freyda's interview too. "No—I'm at Niall's right now, and nobody here believes what Freyda said either. But the footage does put her in Eric's house."

There was another pause.

"Yes. Do that," Bobby said. "And go up to the house and look at Eric's bedroom, and then call me back."

"What are you thinking?" Thalia asked.

"I'm not sure. What confuses me most is how that footage of Freyda could exist. Eric's bedroom was trashed the last time I was there, so that seems to indicate that the video was shot a while ago, but the time-stamp indicates the exact day Eric was last in Manhattan."

"Time stamps can be altered," Thalia said. "And even though Eric's face is clear when he's coming to the bed from the bathroom, once the image goes to them supposedly having sex, his face is no longer shown. All I could see was a tall, slender man with blond hair, but the darkness of the image and the fact that the man's back is to the camera obscures who he is. And—the blanket covers most of his body too."

Bobby nodded. "Yes. It's the opening shot of Eric that sets up the context, and since the room is the same, it's easy to assume that he's the same blonde having sex with Freyda in the next shot."

Bobby's phone rang and he quickly answered it. He sighed loudly. "Okay. Can you and Blake check the house and see if any of the surveillance devices are still there."

"Tell them to check for new ones too," Thalia instructed.

"Did you hear that?" Bobby asked into the receiver. He nodded to Thalia. "Really?" he asked after a moment. "But how can that be?" There was a pause. "Okay—call me when you know more." He hung up.

"So?" Niall asked.

"Eric's room is pristine—seemingly exactly the same as it was before he destroyed it. We'll need to check carefully for any differences, however. Maybe we can find discrepancies between the image of Eric coming into the room and the later image once we analyze the footage."

Niall sat down into his desk chair heavily. "So you believe Appius manufactured all this with the intent of making Eric look like the father of Freyda's child?"

"Yes—I do," Bobby said. "If she's pregnant, that is."

"But that's insanity!" Mr. Cataliades said.

"That's Appius," Elsa added with disdain.

"So," Thalia speculated, "maybe Freyda found out she was pregnant and went to Appius for help."

Bobby nodded. "That makes sense in a way, and Appius would have wanted to use her to his advantage."

"I brought my laptop. I can start going through the footage I've been collecting from NP and see if there's been any sign of Freyda there during the last few days," Thalia said.

"Good idea," Bobby responded. Since Sookie had almost lost the baby, she'd not been doing any more "readings" of Appius, but Thalia had still been gathering all the feeds that she could.

Claudine, who had been quiet up until that point, spoke softly. "The woman in that interview believed the words she was saying about the child being Eric's."

"There's no way in hell Eric would cheat on Sookie—no way!" Bobby insisted.

Claudine rolled her eyes at her cousin. "I know that, you idiot," she said snappily. "I'm not suggesting that I believe Freyda—only that Freyda believes Freyda."

"So she's delusional?" Elsa asked.

Claudine nodded. "Certifiable. From what Eric has told me and from what I know of her in general, I believe that she has obsessive tendencies. And—yes—she's obviously delusional. And that means she's potentially dangerous."

"Does Eric have a history with this Freyda de Castro?" Elsa asked.

Bobby sighed. "A very brief one—about two and a half years ago.

"So their relationship happened before Sookie," Elsa stated.

"Yes," Bobby confirmed. "And—like I said—their involvement was extremely short-lived on Eric's part: one or two encounters. Then, Eric sensed something was off about Freyda and told her that he didn't want to have anything to do with her anymore. But she kept calling him. Eventually, she was caught stalking him. Things were pretty hushed up—thanks to her father—and she was shipped off to Europe."

Elsa sat down heavily. "Why didn't Eric tell me about this?"

Bobby's eyebrow rose.

Elsa sighed and then answered her own question. "Because he's never spoken openly of anything—especially not before Sookie."

Bobby nodded.

"I remember more," Niall sighed. "Didn't Freyda announce to the Press that she and Eric were engaged—a little less than two years ago?"

Elsa closed her eyes and sighed.

Claudine picked up the story. "Appius supplied Freyda with an easily recognizable ring that had been in the Northman family for generations. But Eric refused to go along with Appius's plans, and he gave the Press recordings of some of the irrational messages Freyda had left for him."

"But—even after that—Appius didn't drop the idea of Eric marrying Freyda," Bobby supplied.

"Why?" Niall mused, almost to himself.

"Why what?" Bobby asked.

Niall looked up at him. "I understand—given John's Will—why Appius needs for Eric to become CEO of Northman Publishing; if Eric doesn't, then Appius will lose almost everything. I also understand why he wanted the contract between them because it would help him to take some control over Eric."

Bobby nodded. "It allowed Appius to seem to be the one pulling all the strings. It also allowed Appius to set a standard of success that Eric has to live up to."

"Yes," Niall said. "And Eric—for all intents and purposes—also gave up his right to any kind of inheritance."

"From either side of his family," Elsa sighed, having heard—like the others—about the contract as well as the codicil of John Northman's Will.

"But why the part about Eric marrying?" Niall asked.

Bobby sighed. "I must admit that I have always wondered about that too. After all, Eric gave up the right to inherit anything from Appius, so he couldn't pass NP down to his children anyway. And—lately—Appius seemed to have been pushing for Eric to marry Isabel, someone who could have potentially made him happy."

"Obviously, if Appius is involved with Freyda's machinations, then he's changed his mind about giving Eric the chance to marry someone palatable," Niall said wryly.

"Don't you see?" Thalia asked.

"See what?" Bobby responded with confusion in his eyes.

"Appius is all about control," Thalia answered. "And clearly, he's decided that he wants to control not just who Eric marries, but also when. It's a failsafe—a back-up plan."

"In case Appius discovers that he cannot stomach the notion of allowing Eric to be CEO—after all," Cataliades said with realization.

"Yes. Because if Appius backs out of their contract—after Eric is married—the wife would get half of any fortune or stock Appius had to forfeit to Eric," Thalia said, "unless there was a prenuptial agreement to stop that from happening."

"Which Appius wouldn't allow," Niall observed.

"And if Appius controls the woman, then he gets half of what he lost back," Bobby said, realization hitting him as well. He looked at Thalia. "You really are brilliant," he whispered as he bent down to kiss her cheek.

"I know." She winked at him.

"And—as a bonus—Appius would get to use his influence to make Eric as miserable as possible—using his wife as a puppet," Elsa sighed.

Bobby shook his head. "That's probably why Appius once seemed to favor the idea of Eric getting together with Nora. She is loyal to him."

"And Freyda is psychologically fragile enough to be easily manipulated by him as well," Claudine said.

Bobby closed his eyes. "How far do you think she would go to try to entrap Eric?"

"Obviously, she is willing to fake a pregnancy," Elsa observed.

"Or get pregnant for real," Thalia added.

"But DNA testing will demonstrate that Eric's not the father," Desmond said reasonably.

The intercom on Niall's desk sounded.

"What is it, Mikey?" Niall asked.

"Sorry to bother you, Niall," the guard said, "but there's a man here to see you."

"Who is it?" Niall asked.

"His name's Bill Compton, and he says he knows something about a faked video recording."

Bobby exhaled heavily and looked at Niall. "You'd better let him in."


	17. Motive

Chapter 17: Motive

They had assumed their favorite post-coital position. Eric was spooning behind Sookie, his hand resting over Johan and her hand resting over his. Actually, that had been their "coital" position too.

Eric had always loved to make love to Sookie from behind as they lay side by side—her back to his chest, her leg lazed over his. The position allowed him to touch almost anything he wanted on her body, including her clit and her breasts. It allowed him to hang onto her hips for dear life as he tried to keep his sanity, even when he felt his pleasure might become too much for a human to withstand. It allowed him to inhale the scent of her hair or kiss the curve of her shoulders and neck. And it allowed him to better understand Sookie's own passionate cravings—as she would literally bend herself backwards so that her lips could find his. He'd always loved the fact that she was just as thirsty for him as he was for her.

In the week since they'd been married—even as Johan had decided to make his presence more and more known, they had both begun to prefer making love spooned together. Even with his height, Eric was having a hard time curving his body over Sookie's expanding belly if he was on top, and he didn't like being on his knees as he trust into her from above. Though he could see her eyes that way, it had always felt as if he was too far away from her when he was positioned like that. And—though he had enjoyed taking her from behind with her on her hands and knees before, he no longer liked the idea that her elbows might give out, causing her to fall onto her rotund stomach. She was still—thank all the gods in the heavens—ready and willing to ride him on occasion, but she would tire quickly. So making love to her as they were both lying on their sides had become the most enjoyable way for them to join. And neither of them were complaining about it.

In fact, they were both ready to write an ode to the position.

Johan kicked hard against Eric's hand, and they both chuckled. For the most part, he would stay asleep during their lovemaking—as if lulled by the action or, perhaps, respecting his parents' privacy—but whenever Sookie was still, he liked to remind his parents of his presence.

"Eric?" Sookie whispered, saying his name like a question.

"Hmmm?" he responded, though her tone told him what her topic would be. They'd not talked much about Appius in the last two weeks, but they both knew it was time to start figuring things out.

"What now?" she asked.

Eric sighed. He had been asking himself that same question since Bobby had come to him in the MET and had told him that Sookie was nearby, carrying his child, and in distress. At first, Eric had put off her questions—and his own—because she was weak and ill. Then, he had somehow gotten her to agree to put off the discussion until after their wedding—and then to delay it until after their honeymoon, which had consisted of a week on the rocky Manchester, Massachusetts coastline. Niall had sold the Brigant family's palatial estate in Boston long ago, but he'd kept their Victorian-style vacation home on the Massachusetts coast. And Eric and Sookie had sequestered themselves there for a week after their wedding—a week which would be coming to an end when Mikey picked them up in two hours to take them back to the Hamptons.

Eric inhaled the scent of her hair. "I'm going to confront Appius—but not until after Johan is born."

Sookie sighed deeply. "You're going to wait?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation. "I need to know you and Johan are safe before I do anything."

"You're going to have to go back to NP soon—be there in person," Sookie whispered. "You have already been gone for three weeks."

"Yes," Eric said with regret.

"What will that mean for us?" she asked.

"It means that I will have a long commute," he said. "But I will be in your bed every night, Sookie. I swear it."

She sighed with relief. "So you won't be staying at home?" she asked. No matter how welcome she'd felt at Niall's estate, she still thought of their Upper West Side house as their "real" home.

"Not without you," he whispered into her hair. "I never want to spend a night without you again."

"Thank you," she whispered.

He shook his head. "You are thanking me for wanting to be close to the people that make me happy?" He chuckled. "It feels selfish and dangerous. I just hope Appius doesn't suspect anything when I continue to stay at Niall's."

She looked up at him. "Screw him if he does. Let him wonder."

He lips curved upward. "Yes." But then his frown returned. "I just need to know you and Johan are well, Sookie. Anything else doesn't matter."

"Johan and I are fine, Eric," she whispered sincerely.

Eric sighed. Sookie had promised that she was feeling okay—that she wasn't going to get sick on him again. That she wasn't going to die on him. That she and Johan were okay and going to stay that way.

But Eric was still afraid. Each day was like a countdown for him. Her pregnancy was now 23 weeks along, and Johan's survivability rate would be 17% if he were born right then. At 24 weeks, he would be at 39%. At 25, he would be at 50%. At 26, he would be at 80%. At 27 weeks, he would be at 90%. Eric had the percentages and probabilities memorized like a timetable, and he was praying for at least five more weeks to take his son from less than 20% to 90%. Moreover, Sookie's own chances of being okay rose with every day her pregnancy progressed.

The second day they'd been reunited, Sookie had made Eric promise—swear on their love—that if it came to a choice, that he'd pick their child over her. But Eric wondered if he could do that—wondered if it would be possible for him to tear out his heart and soul in order to save his son.

No—he thought—shutting out the possibility of losing either of them as he shut his eyes. He couldn't lose his wife or his son—not now or ever. He pulled her closer, enjoying the way her body molded to his. His hand savored the feeling of his son's kicks, and he prayed for Sookie and Johan's safety. He was prepared to give his own life for them—if need be. But they would stay safe.

Sookie and Eric were surprised when they got back to Niall's estate and found a large group of people there.

Dr. Ludwig was the first to speak. "I'd like to check Sookie's vitals first, and I want to keep her sitting down with a blood pressure monitor on during this little meeting."

Immediately, Sookie paled. "What's happened?"

"Jesus Christ, Ludwig. Don't scare her like that," Niall chastised.

"What is it?" Eric asked, wrapping his arm protectively around Sookie.

"There's a lot," Bobby said with a sigh. "But let the doctor work first."

Eric looked around the room. In addition to Bobby, Niall, and the doctor, his mormor, Pam, Claudine, Henry, Blake, Thalia, Amelia, and Desmond Cataliades were in the room. In addition, Copley Carmichael, Russell Edgington, and Isabel were there.

Eric looked at them all and re-asked Sookie's question. "What's happened?"

"Appius has gone too far," Russell said. He looked at Eric with regret. "He's been going too far for a long time; I'm sorry I didn't know that, Eric. But now I do. Niall's told us everything—about John's codicil, about your contract with Appius. Everything."

Copley sighed loudly. "For many years, Appius was my closest friend, and I made allowances for the neglect he clearly inflicted upon you. I'm sorry. As a father myself, I should have spoken to him about you. I saw that he was neglecting you, but I believed he was doing that because he was still grieving for Stella. But there's no excuse. I should have done something. But," he paused and looked at his own daughter with regret, "I was not a very good father then either."

"What's happened?" Sookie asked again, feeling like she and Eric were in some kind of broken record loop where they kept getting a non-response to their question.

"First, before anything else, you need to know that there are solutions," Niall said firmly.

"Yes, you will have your choice of them," Russell added.

"And I'm one of them," came a voice from the door.

"Mr. Compton," Niall said, though his face held no smile, "how kind of you to join us. But I thought I asked you to stay out of here until you were called."

"Bill?" Sookie asked, even as her legs began to shake. Eric immediately scooped her into his arms and put her down onto the couch.

He looked at the doctor frantically. "Amy?" he asked.

Dr. Ludwig muttered out a curse and attended to her patient quickly. Thankfully, Sookie's blood pressure wasn't elevated, and her shock at seeing Bill wore off quickly.

Instead, she felt something else building inside of her—the same kind of thing that a mother lioness might feel if she were trying to protect her child from a pack of hyenas. She felt cold, hard anger.

And she felt colder and harder determination.

"Am I okay?" she whispered to the doctor.

Amy Ludwig recognized Sookie's look immediately. It wasn't uncommon among expecting mothers, who, by sheer force of will, aimed to protect their children's lives. In the doctor's experience, the women with that look generally succeeded.

"Right as rain, Mrs. Northman. Now—give them hell," Amy whispered.

Sookie nodded and gave the doctor a little smile. She intended to do just that.

"What the fuck is going on here?" she asked, turning her stare to Bobby and Henry, who were standing nearby and looking at her with concern. "You two—talk! Now!"

Henry and Bobby both smiled at her as she shifted and then set herself onto Eric's lap. She spared a quick glare for Bill, as Ludwig chuckled and fit her with an automatic blood pressure monitor.

"Thank you," Sookie said to the doctor. "I'm okay."

Ludwig winked at her.

"But I'll be even better when people start explaining!" she said loudly.

"Vara lugna, min älskade," Eric said quietly against her hair. "Vara lugna för vår son. För Johan." [Be calm, my love. Be calm for our son. For Johan.]

Even though she didn't recognize all of the words that he spoke, Sookie looked at Eric and nodded before kissing him lightly. "I'm okay—really. You're here, and the doctor's here. It's okay."

He placed a kiss onto her forehead and a hand over their child. Her free hand immediately came over his.

"Amy?" Eric asked.

"She is okay," Ludwig confirmed.

"I already said that," Sookie grumbled. She looked back a Bobby and Henry—because, other than Eric, they were the two people she trusted the most. "So? Spill it you two—before I give you lifetime diaper duty."

Both of them were still smiling at her. "Remind me never to underestimate you, Sookie," Henry said with a brotherly look of pride.

"Spill!" she ordered again.

Bobby sighed and raked his hand through is hair. "Two days ago, a sex-tape of Freyda de Castro and a man who looked to be Eric was leaked to the press."

Eric immediately tensed. "From Northman Tower? From years ago?" he asked. He wouldn't put it past Appius to monitor the goings-on in the apartments. Eric had just never really cared before.

"No," Bobby said. "The footage is from your home."

"Our home?" Sookie asked shakily.

"But Freyda was never there," Eric said with a mixture of anger and certainty.

"The video was altered," Bill said from the other side of the room. "It was well-done, but my findings are conclusive." He looked at Sookie contritely. "I'm sorry that someone has tried to make you doubt Eric—again. But you shouldn't—not in this situation."

"Bill?" Sookie said his name like a question. "Why are you even here? How did you know where I was?"

"I didn't know that you would be here," Bill said. "But I found out Eric was here from Lorena."

"Lorena?" Sookie asked.

Bill sighed. "Lorena is on Appius's payroll. I didn't know that before four days ago—I swear. I was at Quantico giving a lecture when a colleague of mine—a rival, really—bragged that he'd bedded Lorena and altered a video for her that would make my work look amateurish. To further boast, Warren showed me his work. It turns out that the tape was of Eric and Freyda. At that point, I sought out Lorena and was able to get more information from her, including the fact that Eric had been staying here. Lorena told me that you'd had a mental breakdown," he added, looking at Eric.

"Why seek me out?" Eric asked suspiciously.

"Lorena tried to get a rise out of me by telling me that Sookie had run off, and then she offered to introduce me to your father, who apparently pays very well for information on you," he responded, still looking at Eric. Bill shrugged. "I pretended that I was going to think her offer over."

"But then he came here," Bobby explained. "And he brought evidence that the sex-tape of you and Freyda had been faked."

"Why help me?" Eric pushed.

Bill sighed. "I will admit to having ulterior motives. I figured I'd try to trade my information for Sookie's location. However," he continued, "once I got here, it was explained to me that you two had married. And then my motives changed."

"What are they now?" Sookie asked with some trepidation.


	18. Duplicity

Chapter 18: Duplicity

"Nothing so completely baffles one who is full of trick and duplicity himself, than straightforward and simple integrity in another."

—Charles Caleb Colton

In truth, Bill Compton was having a difficult time pinning down his current motives.

When he'd first seen the altered video of Eric and Freyda, he'd celebrated, knowing that the images would likely destroy any faith that Susanna—or Sookie (as she apparently still wanted to be known)—had in Eric Northman.

It wasn't as if Bill had become obsessed with looking for a way to drive a wedge between Eric and Sookie. After he'd seen Sookie back in late December, Bill had resolved to move on. After all, Sookie had seemed quite attached to Northman, and Bill had wanted nothing to do with Bobby Burnham, Eric's watchdog. Moreover, Agent Travis Fletcher had offered Bill a threat—though it had been disguised as a piece of advice.

Fletcher had told Bill that, should he do anything to interfere in Eric's and Sookie's lives, Bill's more questionable "recruitment tactics"—including his seduction of Michelle Stackhouse in order to get information on Sookie—would come to light. It wasn't as if Bill was scared of Travis Fletcher. The man wasn't his direct superior, nor were they even in the same division.

However, Fletcher's threat was the tipping point, as Bill's own self-preservation impulses became stronger than his desire to get Sookie back.

But it wasn't as if Bill had given up entirely either. Michelle Stackhouse had obviously spilled her guts to Franklin Mott; then, Mott had shown up on Bill's doorstep in Texas. Bill hadn't told the man much—at least, not at first. He had thought that Franklin might be a plant from Eric Northman or Fletcher, sent to try to trip him up.

Unfortunately, however, Lorena had been "visiting" Bill when Mott had arrived, and she'd hit it off with him. As soon as it had become apparent that Mott had been sent by Appius Northman, who seemed to have great animosity toward his son, Bill had made the choice to play both sides. He'd given Mott some information, but he'd mainly ensured—through manipulation—that Lorena would tell Mott all she knew.

To further his aims, Bill had initiated a fight with Lorena and sent her away, knowing that she'd seek out the still snooping Mott out of spite. Then, Bill had called Travis Fletcher, explaining that he needed to contact Sookie in order to warn her about Mott. Of course, Fletcher had denied him Sookie's phone number, which Bill—of course—already knew anyway. He was in the FBI, after all! And he had connections of his own—and access to the Bureau's secured internet server. However, Bill had refrained from calling Sookie and had, instead, called Bobby Burnham, whose number Fletcher had given to him.

Pretending contrition, Bill had told Burnham all about Mott visiting him, his theory that Mott had been sent by Appius Northman, and his supposition that Michelle Stackhouse had already spoken to Mott.

Bill had hoped that Sookie would at least call him to thank him for his efforts, but she hadn't.

He had been disappointed, but he'd moved on. And, for a little while, he didn't think much about Sookie. He began recruiting a lovely woman named Selah, who was gifted in languages and accents. And that wasn't all her tongue was good at producing either—thus the distraction. Selah, unlike Sookie, had embraced the offer to become a member of the FBI, and Bill had helped with her initial training. In turn, she'd helped him to forget about Sookie for a while.

But Selah was on assignment now, and Bill didn't expect to see her again for quite some time. He'd been bored and horny when he'd been called to present at the conference at Quantico. However, that boredom dissipated when Warren Daniels showed him the cleverly modified video of "Eric" fucking Freyda de Castro. In fact, the tampering was so good that many experts wouldn't even have spotted the editing.

Bill had immediately realized that the video, which had not yet been released to the Press, could be his ticket back into Sookie's good graces. He'd wanted to go to her immediately in order to tell her that one of his "sources" had told him about a video that would soon be released to the public. Bill planned to feign concern and tell Sookie that he'd wanted to make sure that she wasn't caught unaware by the video's "disturbing" contents.

However, Bill couldn't find any trace of Sookie. She'd left her job at Northman Publishing, and, according to the tabloids, Eric Northman had had a breakdown. That's when Bill had contacted Lorena, wondering if she could be persuaded to tell him how she'd come to be involved in the situation. By the time he was done, Bill had manipulated his ex into telling him everything: all about Appius Northman spying on his son, all about Sookie running away from New York when it became clear that she wouldn't get to marry Eric Northman, and all about Eric's retreat to the Hamptons following his breakdown.

After that, Bill had decided to visit Northman. Indeed, his plan had initially been to use his proof that the sex-tape had been faked as leverage to compel Eric to tell him Sookie's location. And—if Eric didn't know where she was—then Bill was prepared to take a payoff in exchange for the proof. But Bill hadn't encountered Eric. He'd interrupted a strategy session taking place. And, in that moment, he'd decided that his best move would be to freely offer the proof that the video had been altered—and then to wait to figure out his next move.

After he'd learned that Sookie was married to Eric and expecting a child, the game had changed, and he'd had an important question to answer.

Did he still want Sookie?

As Bill looked at her, he became certain that he did still want her. He wanted the children she carried to be his children. However, there was currently not a clear path to her—at least, not one that didn't involve alienating the powerful people currently in the room.

And, in all fairness, he could tell that she was truly happy with Northman. Should he simply help them and then step away? Indeed, that would be the unselfish thing to do.

Or would it?

Northman had obviously alienated his own father, and Appius Northman was a dangerous enemy to have. What if Sookie was directly targeted by him? That meant the truly unselfish thing for Bill to do would be to risk himself in order to protect her. And—just like that—Bill knew what he had to do: bide his time.

He would "help" Eric and Sookie now. He would ingratiate himself to them, and, in time, Sookie's heart would soften toward him. Meanwhile, he would offer to track Eric for Appius. Bill knew he could convince his superior, Nan Flanagan, to let him do as he needed, since there would—once again—be an opportunity for him to recruit Sookie.

Bill smiled to himself. He would work both sides. He would make it seem like his tracking Eric for Appius was a good thing, for it would get Mott off his back. He'd tell Eric that he would do this in order to try to help them prove that Appius was behind the engineered video. Hell—he'd even bring Northman proof of Appius's involvement in order to solidify the group's trust in him.

Meanwhile, he would be planting ideas into Appius's head about Eric undermining him at Northman Publishing. Bill didn't plan to say a word about Sookie or the child, but he figured he could amp up Appius's paranoia about his son. With any luck, that paranoia would eventually boil over and permanently damage the man holding the woman that Bill was still determined to make his own.

For her own good.

He'd just have to be patient.

He'd have to watch and wait for the perfect moment to set up Eric's downfall. And—when it came—he would be there to help Sookie pick up the pieces. And, even better, he would have earned her trust by then—by pretending to lend Eric a helping hand, even as he stabbed him in the back.

Having made his plans, Bill felt confident as he explained to Eric and Sookie how he'd become aware of the video. He'd learned a long time before that it was often best to confess some shortcomings in order to foster future trust, so he admitted that he'd had ulterior motives in seeking Eric out, though he indicated that he hoped to use the proof of the falsified tape only as leverage to find out where Sookie was—in order to make sure that she was okay.

When she asked him what his current motivation was, Bill celebrated inside. He was ready to activate his plan to begin earning Sookie's trust.

"What are your motives now?" Sookie asked again.

Bill ran his hand through his hair. "To help you, Sookie. I feel partially to blame for all that has happened, and I want to make that up to you—if I can.

"What do you mean by being 'partially to blame?'" she asked.

"Had Lorena never come into your life, you and Eric might not be dealing with this current scandal. And—Lorena is in the picture only because of me," Bill added contritely.

"How did Lorena come to get involved with Appius?" Eric asked suspiciously.

"She was—uh—visiting when Franklin Mott came to question me. They hit it off, so to speak," Bill added bitterly.

Sookie sighed. "Thank you, Bill—for giving us proof that the video is fake."

"You are welcome," Bill said sincerely.

Sookie turned her attention to the others in the room. "What exactly does the tape show?" she asked in a quiet voice.

"It doesn't matter," Niall said protectively. "It's a fake—like Compton said."

Sookie looked at Niall pointedly. "I wouldn't have needed Bill to tell me that. I know my husband." Her tone softened a little. "But I still need to know what's in that video. I don't want to be blindsided."

Bobby nodded in the direction of Blake, who stood in front of Niall's big screen television. Blake pushed a button on the remote in his hand, and the gathered people silently watched the latest gossip report, which included a replay of the sex-tape as well as snippets from various interviews that Freyda had given during the last couple of days.

Throughout the whole report, Eric and Sookie held onto each other, and Dr. Ludwig watched the blood pressure monitor like a hawk.

"Oh my God!" Sookie exclaimed when the report had ended. "Appius is using that poor girl!"

Everyone—except for Eric—looked at Sookie with surprise.

"Sookie, Freyda isn't innocent here," Bobby said.

Sookie sighed. "I know that. She's just accused my husband of sleeping with her and fathering her child, and a part of me hates her for trying to entrap Eric. But it's also clear that she's delusional. And—even if I'm wrong and she's completely sane—there's still an innocent child involved." She wiped away a tear as her hands moved to cover her own child in her womb. "Appius is going to try to use that baby to control Eric. And he's not gonna care at all if the child gets hurt in the process!"

Eric placed both of his hands onto Sookie's. He was feeling his own mixture of feelings acutely. On the one hand, he hated Freyda for trying to deceive him. On the other, he too felt sorry for the child. However, his main emotion in that moment was pride. He was so damned proud of his wife—his wife.

And he was grateful.

Not for a moment had she doubted him. And her in-tune perceptions had immediately picked up on the fact that Freyda—though she was, indeed, probably unhinged—was also another victim, as was her child. At that moment, realization hit Eric like a ton of bricks. Appius doled out abuse and manipulation like most parents gave out chocolate chip cookies or other treats. To Appius, the "treat" was always seeing Eric hurt. And Appius had a special talent for causing hurt that was more insidious than overt.

Because of Sookie's help and his sessions with Claudine, Eric had come to recognize that his father most enjoyed puttingEric into situations where he would actually hurt himself. Appius would—in many ways—set up a scene and then revel in the fact that Eric willingly acted in it. He'd done that with Eric's first attempts to make friends in school. By influencing those kids' parents, Appius was able to take Eric's friends from him. And then—once that scene was set—Eric simply stopped trying to build real friendships. The fact that Bobby had been in his life for so long could be attributed to two reasons—neither of which was something Eric had done. Godric, out of pity for the friendless child at his school, introduced Bobby into Eric's life. And it had been Bobby's persistence that had ensured that they became friends. After all, for years, Eric had hardly spoken to Bobby when they hung out playing the old arcade games in the school's common room. And it had been only since Sookie came into his life that Eric had really been able to open up to Bobby. Indeed, looking back, Eric recognized other people who might have been good friends to him if he'd not kept them at arm's length. However, Appius's "setting of the stage" had made Eric believe that distancing himself from others was the safest course of action. Thus, Eric had acted against his own self-interest. He had harmed himself, and Appius had celebrated that fact.

Eric had also harmed himself by keeping his distance from the rest of his family. When Eric was only a small boy, Appius had told him the he'd not be able to see his mormor or morfar again if he spoke about his "meetings" with his father. So—of course—he hadn't. Even when he was older, he didn't speak to his family about Appius's treatment of him. Again, Appius had set the scene for Eric to isolate himself, and he had. He'd made Eric his own worst enemy.

Even the contract he'd signed with Appius was a study in his father's ability to cause Eric to inflict pain upon himself. Eric had—because he'd thought he deserved no better and because he was afraid of Appius—signed many of his choices away. But at the time, Eric would have sworn that it was a "good deal." Indeed, even if Appius hadn't been blackmailing him to sign the contract, Eric wondered if he would have resisted his father's demands. After all, Appius had conditioned him to believe that any dreams or hopes that he had for himself were pointless. So Eric had stopped even trying to hope or dream; again, he'd become his own worst enemy.

All of these thoughts flew through Eric's mind quickly—as did another thought. Appius had wanted Freyda to become pregnant. He had wanted Eric to be too weak to resist the lure of a family of his own—even if it was with a crazy woman. He had wanted to use Eric's supposed breakdown against him—to cause Eric to doubt his own memories—and maybe even to accept the proposition that he had actually fathered Freyda's child. He had wanted Eric to hammer in the nails of his own coffin.

Eric sighed and the truth of what his father must have done became apparent to him. "Appius is the father of Freyda's baby," he stated. "I know it."

"What?" Sookie asked.

"It's the only thing that would make sense to Appius. He would have known that I would insist upon a DNA test, and he would need that test to make me doubt myself just enough so that I would come to accept Freyda's story as possible."

"You are smarter than you look," Dr. Ludwig intoned.

Eric looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

Ludwig smirked. "What? You know I like you, Eric, but men who look like you usually have the intellect of a bag of beans."

Eric smiled and chuckled, silently thanking the diminutive doctor for lightening the stress of the moment.

She gave him a nod, though her smirk didn't leave her face. "Anyway, now that your ego is in check," she said with a wink, "it's time to catch you up on what I've already found out. You are right about Appius being Freyda's child's father. Bobby and I were able to track down Dr. Sheraton, who performed your DNA test a few years ago," she explained. "It turns out that he shares an office space with a good friend of mine. I went to see her yesterday—while Claude and Amelia went to see Dr. Sheraton, pretending to be a couple looking into artificial insemination."

Amelia smiled at Sookie. "You should have seen the asshole scramble to open up his schedule once he realized he had a Carmichael and a Crane wanting to see him. He was very accommodating," she chuckled.

"While the good doctor gave Amelia and Claude a tour," Dr. Ludwig picked up, "my intern snuck into his office."

"Intern?" Sookie asked.

"Me," Thalia grinned. "I planted my own personal version of a spyware virus onto his computer, so we can monitor Dr. Sheraton's emails to prove that Appius is in touch with him."

"Is he?" Eric asked.

"Oh, yes," Thalia responded with a smirk. "And—just this morning—Dr. Ludwig here was able to interpret a document sent to Appius by Dr. Sheraton."

"Amy?" Eric asked.

"The document outlined how to twist the findings of DNA testing involving a child and his or her father. Dr. Sheraton has done several simulations with Freyda's, Appius's, and your DNA. It is his opinion that—even if you conducted independent testing with a 'reputable' doctor, the tests would determine that there was a 65-80% chance that you were likely the child's father—if the child is a boy. Should the child be a girl, the percentages go down a bit, but Appius is certain that as long as it's 50% or above, you'll accept the paternity."

Sookie shook her head. "But that's crazy. Appius had to have known that you would suspect him of fathering the child once it seemed likely that you shared some DNA with him or her!"

Eric sighed. "In January, Appius lost control. It's very possible that he truly is starting to lose it. Or, perhaps, he's just convinced himself that I am so mentally wounded that I could be railroaded into accepting almost anything right now—including a child that wasn't really mine."

"That poor baby," Sookie whispered. She looked at Eric. "We have to do something to help him or her."

"We will," he promised, leaning toward her. "You're amazing," he whispered so that only she could hear it.

Her lips twitched up a little.

Eric smiled back at her and then looked at the older men in the room—Russell, Copley, and Niall—who were all speaking quietly with each other.

"What do you propose?" Eric asked, getting the men's attention.

"It depends," Russell said, his brogue accent coming through.  
"On what?" Eric asked.

"On when you want to act and how much damage you want to do to Appius," Niall said matter-of-factly.

Eric sighed deeply and looked at Sookie. "I want to wait until after our baby is born—if we can."

Sookie went to protest, but Eric stole her words with a kiss.

"You and Johan are my priority," Eric reminded as soon as he released her lips.

Henry smiled. "We figured you'd say that."

"I've already drawn up the paperwork for a DNA test for Freyda's child," Bobby said.

"But Freyda's physician will stall," Dr. Ludwig picked up. "There's some precedent for waiting until the child is born—or at least until further along in a woman's pregnancy—to conduct DNA tests. However, new tests that are noninvasive can been done as early as nine weeks into the pregnancy."

Eric nodded.

"Still—depending on the judge—the DNA testing could be delayed until Freyda's child's birth," Bobby said.

"How far along is Freyda?" Sookie asked.

"According to the information in the email, she is approximately two weeks along," Thalia informed. "And that matches the time-stamp on the sex-tape."

Eric sighed. "So the earliest that a DNA test could happen to prove Appius is the real father and I'm not is about two months anyway."

A scoff was heard, and everyone turned to see who was making the noise: Bill.

"Sorry," Bill apologized with a little shake of the head. "I still have it in my brain that you're an ass," he said to Eric.

"Bill," Sookie said warningly.

"I'm trying," her ex-boyfriend said contritely. He looked at Sookie with pleading eyes. "I am trying."

She nodded.

Eric ran his hand through his hair. "So we wait. Meanwhile, I'll release a statement to the Press." He looked at Claudine. "I'll need you to back me up."

"What are you going to say?" Niall asked.

"I'm going to play along with what Appius expects. I'll admit that I had a breakdown, but I will deny being the father of Freyda's child. However, I will own to the notion that—up until last week—I had been taking strong medications that could have altered my short-term memories." He looked back at Claudine. "I need for you to say that I've been under your care and am getting better so that my clients at NP don't think me incapable."

Claudine nodded. "I can do that."

Eric smiled gratefully and looked at Pam. "And I'll need you to keep having my back at work too."

Pam nodded.

"Are you okay?" Eric asked his sister.

"No," she responded, even as Amelia put an arm around her. "This is the last straw for me." She shook her head. "I don't have a father anymore."

"I'm sorry, Pam," Eric said.

"Don't be sorry. Just beat him," Pam said quietly, "for all of us."

Eric nodded his promise, and there was silence in the room for a few moments.

Eric finally continued. "I'll also indicate in my statement that I am willing to undergo DNA testing as soon as possible and will take full responsibility if the child is mine."

"You are going to do that in order to keep Freyda from doing anything that could harm the child," Russell said astutely, his face showing what looked almost like paternal pride.

Eric nodded. "Yes—for that reason and others, it's best to seem to go along with this insanity for now, though there's no way I'm going to have any contact with Freyda."

Henry spoke up. "To make sure that the surveillance equipment couldn't be linked to himself or Senator Davis or Debbie Pelt or—I'd imagine—Bill's ex in the FBI, Appius removed it after he made the tape of Freyda and whoever else that was in your room. Blake has checked your home for the last several days to sweep for new devices, but I would suggest that you arrange for private security to be in your home and with you all the time so that Debbie Pelt cannot get in there. I've been trying to keep a close watch on her, but she's good at what she does. After all, she obviously snuck Freyda and God only knows who else into your home once without my knowing," Henry said with obvious frustration and apology.

"They were in our bedroom," Sookie practically snarled, a look of disgust on her face.

"Yes," Bobby said quietly.

"Our bed," Eric added with a shiver.

Bobby nodded.

"We're getting a new mattress," Sookie said.

"A whole new bed," Eric added. "And we're going to burn the sheets and the bedspread."

Sookie shook her head. "No—we're gonna bleach them and then donate them. And donate everything else in there too—except the lounge chair, which I want cleaned by a professional."

Eric chuckled and smiled at his wife. "You're the lottery, Sookie—the fucking lottery," he whispered.

She rolled her eyes but placed a kiss onto his cheek.

Russell exhaled deeply and looked at his daughter and then at Eric and Sookie. "I would have been honored if you were truly going to be my son-in-law," he said, with a hint of regret.

"Daddy," Isabel said with a little warning in her voice. It had been the first time she'd spoken up that afternoon.

Russell smiled at her and winked. "You know that you don't ever have to get married—right? You know that I'm fine with whatever life you choose."

Isabel smiled at him. "I know. And that's why we're helping Eric—so that my friend can have the life he has chosen."

Russell nodded and looked back at Eric and Sookie. "Appius is even more of a fool than I could have imagined. If you were my son, I would shout my approval from the fucking rooftops."

"Me too," Copley said.

"And me," Niall added.

Eric felt his emotions rise into his throat.

Russell looked at him with assuredness. "As I said earlier, you have options, and—as you can see—you are not alone."

Eric closed his eyes for a moment. "Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome," Russell responded. "Now—you have only one thing to decide."

"What's that?" Eric asked.

"Just how much Appius suffers," Russell said.


	19. Nursery

Chapter 19: Nursery

"The most important part of education is proper training in the nursery."

—Plato

FOUR WEEKS LATER

Eric hated having to spend any time apart from Sookie, but he understood that it was a necessary evil if he was going to delay a confrontation with Appius, and he was determined to do just that for the sakes of Sookie and their son.

For the first time in his life, Eric knew that he had enough ammunition to stand up to his father—enough allies and evidence to truly hurt Appius. And there was a part of Eric that just wanted everything finished with his father—finally finished forever. However, there was a bigger part—a much bigger part—that knew that the right move was to wait. He wanted—no he needed—to make sure that Sookie and Johan stayed safe and healthy.

He dipped his paintbrush into the yellow paint and then studied the picture that he was trying to emulate on the wall of what would be his son's nursery. He glanced at the clock leaning against the wall opposite him: 6:00 p.m. He smiled and began to brush the yellow paint carefully onto the wall to create the outline of a bird. It was Thursday evening, and he was ready to get back to Niall's estate—to his wife and child. All he had to do was to make it until 8:00 p.m.—when Debbie Pelt's shift would end.

He sighed as he put a little more paint onto his brush and formed the curve of the bird's back. It had been a month since Sookie and he had returned from their week-long honeymoon. And—despite all the negatives that he'd had to face on an almost-daily basis—it had been the best month of his life.

Sookie was now 27 weeks along in her pregnancy, which meant that his child's chances of surviving a premature birth were at 90%. However, according to Dr. Ludwig, Sookie's preeclampsia was being controlled. She was still on medicine to help keep her blood pressure down, but Eric wasn't taking any chances. Just as he'd promised, he'd not spent a night apart from his wife and son—even though he sometimes wasn't able to get to them until very late at night.

To avoid raising Pelt's—and by extension Appius's—suspicions, Henry had kept Debbie's schedule at Carmichael Tower consistent. She worked each week from Tuesday to Saturday: the 12:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. shift. So—on Tuesdays to Thursdays—Eric was forced to come home after work and stay there until after she was gone. Certainly, Henry had ways to sneak Eric out of the building without Pelt knowing, but it was safer for Eric to seem to be reestablishing the solitary existence he'd had before his "breakdown." Franklin Mott continued to watch Eric periodically, though Bill Compton had taken over most of the surveillance.

However, Eric trusted Compton about as far as he could throw him—though Sookie's ex-boyfriend seemed to be on their side. For now.

Therefore, it was safest for Debbie Pelt to see Eric in the building, so he made a point of swimming most evenings. Or he might go to the front desk to say a word to Henry, who now always worked the same shifts as Pelt.

And after Pelt left, Eric would slip out of his building—unseen by Mott or Compton or whomever else might be around—through a service entrance and walk three blocks to a lot where he'd rented a parking space for the new car that he'd bought. The Corvette certainly wasn't practical for a baby, so Eric and Sookie had decided on a Toyota Prius for their family car.

Then, Eric would drive the now familiar commute to the Hamptons. It took him about two and a half hours to get to Sookie, but—even though she had insisted time and time again that he shouldn't commute five hours every day, the thought of trying to sleep without his wife made Eric sick to his stomach. Plus, he was a big believer in what Amy Ludwig had said to him; if it had been Eric's presence and a little "magic" that had made Sookie well, then Eric was certainly not going to be the one to screw with that.

On Tuesdays through Thursdays, he would slip into bed with Sookie at around 11:00 p.m. Sometimes she would still be awake and they were talk quietly, read together, or make love—depending on Sookie's mood and "comfort-level." Eric grinned. Johan had been getting bigger and bigger and was certainly "trying his mother's patience" as he took over Sookie's body more and more. However, Sookie had an ever-present glow, despite the kidney kicks from their son. And—some nights—her hormones made her insatiable for him. Eric loved those nights.

But he loved the other kinds of nights they shared too. Just spending a little time with her was all he needed to recharge after his long days. On the nights that she would already be asleep when he got to her, he would simply settle in behind her and breathe in her scent until it lulled him into his own sleep.

Eric rose each work morning at 4:00 a.m. to take a quick shower, and Sookie always got up with him so that they could share a breakfast before he had to drive back to the city. Then he would tuck her back into bed and head to Manhattan. He would always retrace his route, returning the Prius to the garage, checking in with Henry to get Mott's or Compton's position, and then slipping back into his house so that he could leave for work from there.

Due to Claudine's "orders," Eric was to work at the office only four days a week, and—surprisingly—Appius had agreed to that new arrangement without argument. Thus, Eric took off each Monday so that he could spend a long weekend in the Hamptons—a fact which he didn't try to hide from Appius or Mott—or anyone else for that matter. In fact, he flaunted it. On Fridays, Eric drove the Corvette to work and left for the Hamptons straight from there, and then he would have three and a half glorious days with his family. He still worked on Mondays, but working from Niall's home with his wife reading across the room or napping with her head on his lap as he read reports was definitely preferable to sitting in his office for hours on end.

Eric grinned as he looked at the picture he'd painted on the nursery wall. Though he hated being stuck in the house from about 5:30 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, he had been able to get a lot done.

He had started by redecorating the bedroom. In fact, before Eric had even stepped foot back into his and Sookie's home, he'd arranged for all of the furniture in that room, except for the blue lounge chair which Sookie was particularly fond of, to be removed and donated—after a thorough cleaning, of course.

And—just to be safe—Eric had had Thalia arrange for a professional cleaning crew to come into the house. Their job was to shampoo the lounge chair, as well as any other piece of furniture Freyda might have sat in. They also shampooed all the carpets and polished everything else. Eric had considered fumigation, but Sookie had nipped that idea in the bud with a roll of her eyes. To her, replacing the mattress and bedding would have been enough. However, Eric had decided to go all out with the renovation of their master bedroom—just so the space would be truly his and Sookie's when they returned to their home. A month ago, they'd spent their whole Saturday looking on the Internet for ideas about how to redo their bedroom. They had also remodeled the whole "gray" side of the house. They added a nursery next to their bedroom—where the "public" office used to be positioned. A door between their bedroom and the nursery had been put in. When Johan was older, they were going to convert the guestroom into his bedroom, but while he was young, they wanted him close by.

Eric smiled as he thought about his and Sookie's new bedroom. He'd designed their bed himself. And thanks to a furniture-maker in the Bronx, whom Eric had worked with before, the bed had already been made and had been delivered the day before. It was a simple platform bed, but it had a padded headboard to make reading more comfortable. The bed had been made of a light wood, and Sookie and he had decided on an even lighter wood flooring. Sookie had wanted light linens as well to keep the room bright. The lounge chair was still the only real pop of color in the room, but the space seemed to suit Sookie and him much better now. They'd chosen large nightstands, which complemented the rectangular room and would give them room for more books. Eric had had the pictures in the room reframed to a light wood as well, and he added a black and white photo of him and Sookie taken from their wedding—the moment before they had kissed to seal their legal union. Neither Eric nor Sookie had known that Pam had snapped the photo, but it was the perfect photo in Eric's opinion. The photo showed the joy and contentment as the couple realized that they were bound by both law and love. Plus, it showed the swell of Sookie's stomach, over which Eric had unconsciously placed his hand. Indeed, the photo was perfect.

To the other side of the bed, Eric had placed other pictures from the wedding, many of which also included the "family" that had grown up around Sookie and himself—a family that still awed Eric with its very existence. Also on his nightstand was his very first picture of Johan from the ultrasound. A slightly different angle of their son—the one Sookie preferred—was on her bedside table already.

Henry had arranged for a contractor to make the necessary structural changes to Eric and Sookie's house on Mondays and also in the mornings when Debbie Pelt was not working. They were always cleared out by 11:00 a.m. on the days that she was scheduled. In addition to repartitioning the "gray side," they'd placed new flooring throughout that side of the house and the bedroom. And the house still smelled of the fresh paint. He smiled. There was now no more gray—except for a couch, but it was very comfortable, so it made up for its color.

Eric had saved several of the renovation projects for himself—so that he'd have something to do on the days that he was stuck waiting for Debbie to get done with her shift. He'd especially enjoyed painting the simple mural on the nursery wall. He'd also loved working in what had once been the "gray lounge." Eric smiled. That room had gone from being his least favorite to one that he treasured more and more with every minute he spent in it. He and Sookie had decided to make it a playroom for their child, but it was currently more like a workroom, housing a piece of furniture that Eric was constructing himself.

Though Eric and Sookie had made all of the decisions regarding the renovations together, she'd allowed Eric "free-reign" in the playroom, and Eric had designed a space that he knew his child would love when he got a little older. Plus, working with the wood had been cathartic for him—so much so that he'd asked Niall for a workspace at his estate too. Currently, Eric was working on a rocking chair during his weekends in the Hamptons.

"Hey," Milos said from behind him, "that looks really good!"

Eric turned around and smiled at his new guard. Ben had been very understanding when Eric had "stolen" one of his best people. Milos had been looking for a different job for a while, and—thanks to the fact that Sookie had turned out to be an heiress—Eric and she could actually afford him full-time. Milos had—at least for the short-term—moved into the guestroom. His job was to make sure that Debbie Pelt didn't sneak into Eric and Sookie's home while they weren't there. Eric was scared that she might discover the renovations, especially the nursery or his and Sookie's wedding pictures, and he didn't want to take any chances. Moreover, he didn't want Appius to have the opportunity to place any more surveillance devices in his and Sookie's home. The days of Eric allowing Appius to invade his sanctuary in any way were over.

"There's some lasagna in the kitchen," Milos informed. "It's my grandmother's recipe."

Eric smiled at his friend/guard. "Did Sookie call you again and tell you to cook for me?"

Milos shrugged. "She knows I like to cook. And she knows that you sometimes forget to eat when you're here."

Eric nodded as he looked at his painting. "I'll be there in a minute."

Milos chuckled. "And I'll be back in fifteen when you forget. Seriously, my grandmother's recipe is not to be missed. And Sookie's not to be messed with."

Eric chuckled and looked back at his painting. Though Eric and Sookie had gotten to know Ben's team at the MET pretty well over the last year or so, Milos had always stood out as a fun person to be around—especially once Eric had started hosting the poker games he used to have once a week. He'd stopped doing that after Sookie had left; in fact, he'd stopped doing most things that could have been considered "living"—except for going to the MET on Sundays. But he was already looking forward to reinstating the poker nights. Trey, who was probably the best poker player in the group, asked him about the games almost weekly.

Trey, Rasul, Calvin, Terry, Miranda, and Jarod—most of the guards at Carmichael Tower—had been brought "into the know" about Eric and Sookie's wedding and the situation with Appius, as well as the duplicity of Debbie Pelt. Eric had also told Ben a bit about the situation—right before he "stole" Milos. And—of course—since he was staying in the house, Milos knew everything, right down to the plans that Eric had made for Johan's playroom. And Milos was also pretty handy with sandpaper, which made him good help as well as good company.

Eric sighed as he once again looked at the clock. It would be another hour before Debbie left. He covered his paint and beat down the lid before taking his paintbrush to the laundry room to wash it in the utility sink. Then he joined Milos in the kitchen.

The two men argued about the Red Socks versus the Mets and then about the Patriots versus the Giants as they ate. Eric had developed a devotion for the Boston teams, given the fact that he'd gone to school in Massachusetts and Bobby was such a fan of the Boston teams. In fact, it had taken Thalia much effort to help Bobby out of his doldrums when the Celtics lost to the Knicks in the first round of the playoffs in early May.

The conversation between Eric and Milos was easy—brotherly even. Eric still couldn't quite reconcile the "him" that could have a light conversation with Milos with the "him" that could hardly even talk to Bobby two years before.

In that time, he'd changed so much, and looking back, Eric realized that the change had begun even before he'd officially met Sookie—though he'd seen the back of her head and had been captivated by the luster of her hair even before that. Eric remembered well the moment that he felt something inside of himself scream out against Appius. It had been when he saw Freyda de Castro showing off the ring that had once belonged to Grace Northman. That day, something finally broke inside of Eric forever. Maybe it was his hope that Appius would come to care about him. Maybe it was his secret desire to make his father proud—to be a part of the Northman legacy. The ring on Freyda's finger should have been part of that legacy, but Appius had been trying to use it to steal even more life out of Eric. And—for the first time—Eric had said, "No." After that moment—even more than after that damned DNA test that had proven Eric's paternity—things had begun to shift inside of Eric. That moment had made it possible for Eric to approach Sookie in the MET that first night.

Otherwise, he would have been afraid to get too near the sun. Hell—it had taken months for him to muster the courage to ask Sookie for what he really wanted: her heart. He'd already given his to her by then, but he had been too afraid to recognize that too.

But after he did, all of the tiles of his life seemed to make more sense. Sookie was the center. And the group that had grown around them helped to give him things he'd never thought he would have. And then Claudine had helped Eric give names to all the feelings he'd ever experienced. And—in naming them—they had suddenly lost much of their power.

Or—in the case of his positive feelings about Sookie and himself—they had gained power.

Of course, it had been Sookie who had taught him the most important "feeling" of all: home.

"I want him now!" Freyda complained unpleasantly.

Appius sighed as he sipped his scotch. Freyda had shown up at his home unexpectedly—again—and had demanded that he tell Eric to marry her immediately.

Again.

"I know," Appius said, trying to sooth her. "But—as I have told you before—things couldn't be going better. Eric is ready to take the DNA test as soon as the eighth week of your pregnancy."

"I'm six weeks along now," Freyda said becoming slightly less agitated.

"Remember," Appius urged gently, "you would do well to wait until later. If the child is a boy, a different kind of test will likely be done, and that one would be more conclusive in proving Eric's paternity."

Freyda waved Appius's statement off. "What do I have to worry about? Eric is my child's father," she averred.

Appius could tell that Freyda now believed every word she said. He had to hold in his chuckle. Indeed, things were working out perfectly. Freyda certainly thought that Eric and she had conceived a child. And Appius was pretty certain that Eric was beginning to allow for the possibility as well. His press release had made that clear. All that Appius needed to do was bide his time—and hope that Freyda would do the same.

"Just remember," Appius said cautiously, "we need to do the best test possible. And I wouldn't want for the baby to be put at risk in any way." Appius had been told enough by Dr. Sheraton to know that one of the newer paternity tests that could be done at around 8 weeks was completely safe and noninvasive, but Appius wanted for Freyda to stick with the plan to wait until the baby's gender was known so that they could proceed with more caution.

Freyda sighed. "I know, but I miss Eric, and he won't come to me until he realizes my child is his."

"Of course you miss the father of your child," Appius said sympathetically, feeding her insanity. "But you will have him soon. Eric is nothing if not honorable."

"Yes—so honorable," Freyda said wistfully.

"And—in the meantime—you have been planning the nursery. Correct?"

She nodded excitedly. "Yes! It is going to be a wonderland! Eric and I will be using the same person who did Mariah Carey's baby's nursery." She smiled. "Hers cost a million dollars—you know."

"Consider the nursery a wedding present from me," Appius said with a smile on his face. "And furnish it to your heart's content! Just send me the bill."

At that, Freyda leapt to her feet and ran around Appius's desk to hug him. "You are so kind to me—and to Eric," she said.

Appius had to stifle his cringe. Feeling Freyda in his arms again was something he had meant to avoid. He patted her back clinically. "I just want you two kids to find happiness," he said with a sinister smile on his face.


	20. Nature, Nurture, Instinct

Chapter 20: Nature, Nurture, Instinct

SIX WEEKS LATER: FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2014

"I'm sorry," Sookie said as Eric took her hand tightly.

"Why?" Eric asked.

"For worrying you," she responded as a paramedic put an oxygen mask over her nose and mouth.

Eric looked at the paramedic with a question in his eyes.

"Everything's okay," the young man assured. "But Dr. Ludwig said to make sure we went above and beyond for your wife. The oxygen is just a precaution."

Eric nodded and tried to erase the nervousness from his eyes. "See, min älskade" he said, looking down at Sookie. "All is well. No need to worry."

"I'm only at thirty-three weeks," she said through the oxygen mask, though Eric made out her words well enough.

"Thirty-three is plenty," Eric said, trying to assure her. "When you had false labor last week, the doctor said Johan was plenty big. Don't worry," he soothed softly, bending down to kiss her forehead.

He looked at the paramedic who nodded his head as if to reassure Eric as well. "And they might decide to try to stop the labor too," the paramedic stated.

"See?" Eric said, once more kissing Sookie's forehead and placing one of his hands on her belly. "Everything is okay," he reiterated, trying to convince himself too.

It was a Friday, and something in the back of Eric's brain had told him that he needed to get to Sookie. Even as he'd been driving to work that morning, there was an itching in his mind that he couldn't quite place. He'd gone through his first two hours of work before he'd told Clancy that he'd be leaving to go to the Hamptons early that day. He'd given no explanations, nor had he run his plans by Appius or Andre. He'd simply boarded the elevator and left.

He'd made it to Niall's home ten minutes after Sookie felt her first contraction. When she and Eric realized that her pains were different from the Braxton Hicks contractions she'd had the week before and when those contractions began to come at regular intervals, it was clear to them both that she was in labor, though her blood pressure hadn't risen, which was a good sign that her body wasn't in distress.

Eric had called Dr. Ludwig, and Niall had started calling their "family." Henry was going to drive up after his shift—which, by no coincidence, corresponded with Debbie Pelt's. Bobby was already speeding toward them and was bringing Amelia and Claudine with him. For appearances sake, Pam was going to wait until after work and catch a ride with Henry, who would also be bringing Thalia.

And—of course—Niall and Mormor were following in Niall's car. The ambulance had been a precaution ordered by Ludwig.

"All her vitals are steady," the paramedic promised.

Eric nodded in his direction, though his eyes stayed locked on his wife. "You're going to have our son today," he said, looking at her with as much love as he could convey.

A tear slipped from each of their eyes. She nodded.

"I'm so glad to see you," Indira said as Sookie was wheeled into a room. "And I just came on my shift, so as long as you deliver in the next twelve hours, I'll be your nurse." She winked at Sookie. "Of course, I usually stay for people I like, so I imagine I'll be your nurse regardless."

Sookie gave the pleasant Indian-American nurse a nervous smile as she was transferred from the gurney to the bed.

Indira immediately hooked Sookie up to several monitors, and her trained eyes read the progress of the woman and her child. "Excellent," she said, taking the oxygen mask off of Sookie. "You shouldn't need this, but tell me if you want it again."

Sookie nodded. "Is everything," she stammered, "okay?"

Indira smiled. "Yes. Everything looks okay." She looked at Eric. "When was the last contraction?"

Eric looked at his watch. "The last one started eight minutes ago."

Sookie suddenly put her hand on her stomach as another one began.

"Have they been consistent?" Indira asked.

"Yes," Eric answered. "They've been eight to nine minutes apart for the last hour or so."

Indira smiled. "Then I'm guessing this is the real thing, but we'll have the doctor make sure. Meanwhile, we're probably in for a long day." She looked at Eric kindly. "We can go ahead and get you into some scrubs so you don't have to worry about it later."

"I want to wait for Niall and my grandmother to get here," Eric said, holding Sookie's hand through her contraction. "I don't want her to be alone in here."

Indira smiled. "I was going to let you put them on right in here with her." She giggled. "I know how you two are. And there's a station where you can wash up right over there." She pointed to a sink and the pair of scrubs next to it. "I promise that I will keep my eyes on Sookie while you change." She winked at her patient. "I might sneak a peek at his ass though," she whispered to Sookie.

"Me too," Sookie said with a smile.

"Well?" Dr. Ludwig said with mock anger as she came into the room. "Why are you two interrupting my date plans?"

"You have a date?" Sookie asked.

The doctor glared at her. "Of course I do. I'm a fucking catch."

Eric chuckled. "Thanks for coming in, Amy. I promise—I'll buy you and your date dinner at the best restaurant in the area to make up for this."

The doctor gave Eric a sincere smile. "I'm going to hold you to that, Northman. Now—let's see what we have?"

After checking the monitors and the readings from the various machines Sookie was hooked up to, Ludwig did a pelvis exam on her patient. Then, she said that she'd be back in an hour to do it all again. Meanwhile, Sookie's contractions stayed consistent. They were eight minutes apart.

Once Ludwig examined Sookie again, she looked at the couple who were looking back at her nervously and expectantly.

"Well, I'm pretty sure this is actual labor. Your Johan is very interested in seeing the world—it seems." She smiled. "He's about five and a half pounds, big for a baby his age. We could try to stop the contractions since your water hasn't broken, but I think that might put him and you into more distress." She paused and looked at Eric significantly. "Sookie's blood pressure has risen a bit during the last hour—not to a dangerous level, mind you—but it has risen."

"What do you suggest?" Eric asked.

"A cesarean section would be best," Dr. Ludwig said. "This room is equipped to handle the surgery and a premature baby, and Indira is the best. I've also called in Chow to assist since you two know him from before. We'll get you prepped and get an anesthesiologist down here, and then we'll get the show on the road."

Sookie looked at the doctor warily. "Is this the best thing for Johan? Is he big enough?"

Ludwig nodded. "I believe so."

"If you can stop the labor, wouldn't that be best for him?" Sookie asked.

Ludwig shook her head. "I don't want to stop the labor, Sookie. And your health is also what is best for him and for you. Your body is telling me that it's ready, and Johan is telling me that he's ready." She looked at the couple confidently. "Let me take care of him now, and I'll have him ready to go home with you within a few weeks."

Sookie looked up at Eric with uncertainty in her eyes. "I need you to decide," she said in a whisper. "I need you to decide because I can't think logically when I think of Johan. All I want is to keep him safe."

"You have kept him safe," Eric said as he kissed her forehead. "And now it's the doctor's turn and my turn to keep you both safe."

Johan Godric Northman was born at 7:59 p.m. on Friday September 12, 2014. He weighed five pounds and 3 ounces, and he didn't cry when he was born. In fact, it took him two minutes in Indira's care before his first cry came, but it did come. And it was strong.

It was the most beautiful sound his father had ever heard.

It was the most beautiful sound his mother had ever heard.

While Sookie was being sewn up, she sent Eric to take a look at little Johan, who was so tiny that it made Eric's heart ache. But what made his heart ache more was his son's beauty.

He had a smattering of light blond hair; actually it was more like peach fuzz than hair, and when his eyes popped open for a split second, Eric felt a gnawing at his very soul.

"He looks like me," he said with awe.

"And he has your heart," Sookie added quietly, looking up at her husband with adoration.

Dr. Ludwig was the best at what she did, and when she'd told the Northmans that delivering their child right away was the best option, she'd been confident that it was. Still—she went above and beyond when it came to taking precautions with their child, who was more than one month premature. However, Johan was a solid and hefty boy for a preemie. Ludwig examined him very carefully and decided to put him on machines that would help him breathe for a few days. He'd breathed on his own at birth, but his lungs were in a little distress, and she was not one to push a baby before he or she was ready.

However, she was also not one to separate a premature child from its parents as other doctors were forced to do. Thanks to Niall's contributions and support over the years, she'd established rooms like the one she was in now. In it, a family could stay together, even when the child was premature. She was grateful that Johan seemed most stronger than the run-of-the-mill baby born at thirty-three weeks. He looked and acted more like a 35-week-old. It seemed like he was just anxious to get his life going.

The doctor smiled at Johan's parents—somewhat discreetly, of course. With the love that they were offering to the child, she couldn't blame the child for being anxious.

Sadly, there were a lot of children born too prematurely to stay in one of the doctor's family rooms, but Ludwig bent her rules for the Northmans, despite the fact that little Johan's breathing was slightly labored. And then she made sure that a nurse—Indira or Chow to be specific—would be staying with Johan all the time for the next twenty-four hours, just to make sure he stayed okay.

However, even as she wheeled Johan's incubator toward the parents, she knew that no heroic measures would be needed on her part. There was too much power in the love Eric and Sookie shared, and too much stored-up karma for the couple. In a word, there was magic at work, and Dr. Ludwig was not fool enough to stand in its way.

"When can we hold him?" Eric asked.

"Tomorrow," the doctor assured.

"How will he eat while he's in there?" Eric asked.

Ludwig smiled. "We'll feed him intravenously for 24 hours. Then we will reassess; meanwhile, I want both of you to touch him as much as possible. For the next couple of hours, just put your hands through these holes," she gestured toward the circles cut into the glass of the incubator. "And let him feel that you are close. Then we'll bring him out and put him on your skin," she smiled. "If I'm right, he'll really respond to that," she grinned, looking back and forth between them. "But I want to make sure his lungs are working well before we do anything too taxing for him—okay?"

Eric and Sookie both nodded, but their focus was on Johan, and their hands were already reaching in to soothe and cover their boy.

Johan Godric Northman was too young to have any real thoughts. His world was about needs. He needed air to breathe, and his lungs were beginning to move more easily on their own.

His breathing was a natural response—instinctive.

Along with the air in his fledgling lungs, he also needed nourishment. He had no way of knowing that the tubes attached to his body were providing him with that, but he was accepting nonetheless.

Again, his need to feed was a natural response—instinctive.

There was something else that Johan needed too—something just out of the reach of his own tiny fingers which flexed inside of his warm box. His hand reached out—looking for something—fisting and un-fisting. His eyes fought to open into the light to seek that which was alluding him—to see that which he'd been longing to see as he'd been inside of his mother's protective womb. However, he couldn't open his eyes. They'd been taped up. He had no way of knowing that a doctor and a nurse intent upon protecting his eyes had sealed them for the time being.

All he knew was a moment of panic—of searching. He opened his mouth and cried—an instinct.

But then he stopped. Warmth seemed to cover him all over, and it was just what he'd been looking for—what he'd been "feeling" for.

Of course, he had no cognizant thoughts as he wiggled in the direction of the two sources of warmth. He had no way of understanding his comfort was coming from the gentle touch of his mother and the protective hold of his father. He couldn't see that the woman who had nurtured him in her womb was poking her hand in through one hole of the incubator so that she could rest her hand on his chest. And he couldn't see that the man whose voice he'd come to associate with safety had placed his finger into Johan's hand. However, that didn't stop the tiny child from gripping that finger.

And—just like his father—the little one had a strong grip.


	21. Enough

Chapter 21: Enough

"You will find peace not by trying to escape your problems, but by confronting them courageously. You will find peace not in denial, but in victory."—Kriyananda (J. Donald Walters)

"Appius!" Russell said jovially. "How the hell are you?"

"The same as always," Appius answered with a controlled smile on his face. "And you?"

"I am well," Russell answered with a smile; his was sincere. "However, I'd been hoping that we would be celebrating an engagement by now."

Appius sighed, just shy of dramatically. "As did I. Eric, it seems, has disappointed us both in this instance."

Russell shrugged. "Such is life. The important thing is that my Izzy is relatively unfazed by the whole business with Eric and Freyda de Castro."

"That is good to hear," Appius said, though the sincerity he tried to convey wasn't quite convincing.

"Well," Russell said, "I suppose I should go. I have a dinner engagement in a while and need to get some work done before that."

"Of course," Appius said with a nod.

"Unless . . . ," Russell began, the word hanging in the air.

"Unless?" Appius took the bait.

"Would you care to join me?" Russell asked. "I'm meeting some old friends, and I'm sure they'd appreciate seeing you."

Appius narrowed his gaze at his contemporary. "Whom are you meeting?"

"Copley Carmichael and Niall Brigant," Russell answered evenly.

"Oh?" Appius asked.

Russell nodded. "Niall and Copley are neighbors in the Hamptons—as you know. They drove up together and we're to lunch. I truly hope that you will join us."

It was the "truly" in Russell's sentence that gave Appius pause, but it didn't stop him from accepting the invitation. When three of the wealthiest men in New York asked someone to their table, denial wasn't acceptable—even for someone like Appius.

"Of course," Appius said, nodding his head.

"Excellent!" Russell responded, clapping his hands before looking down at his watch. "We've reserved the Dwight Room for 5:30 p.m."

"I'll be there," Appius said, looking at his own watch and seeing that it was only 4:20. He'd come to the University Club for a quick drink before heading home. It was his usual habit on Fridays after work. Now he figured he'd have time to get a quick massage from Raul before he met with Russell and the others. And Raul would certainly help to "de-stress" Appius as he always did with his talented fingers—and mouth.

Appius sighed as he walked toward the concierge's desk. He loved the University Club. It was an exclusive club—invite only, of course. And discreet. And that made it one of the few places in the city where he truly felt he could relax.

An hour later, Appius felt very relaxed, indeed. Raul had managed to lift most of the stress off of his shoulders in a mere half an hour. And then he'd provided Appius with his lovely ass so that he could fuck away the rest of his tension. Thoughts of Freyda and Eric and Andre, who'd been a bit irritating lately, had floated from his mind with each pump into his favorite masseuse's ass.

He walked toward the Dwight Room with a lovely scotch already in his hand.

However, his good mood dissipated as soon as he opened the door of the room. Copley and Russell and Niall were there—as promised. However, Desmond Cataliades was also there. Bobby Burnham and Eric were there too. And so was Felipe de Castro.

"What is this?" Appius demanded, looking around the room, even as Henry closed the door behind him.

"It is the end," Eric said forcefully.

"What do you mean?" Appius asked in a scalding voice.

Russell sighed. "Will you excuse us, Felipe? We will call you back in around half an hour."

"I don't enjoy being played with," Felipe said gruffly as he glared in Eric's direction, "especially not by the man who's been playing with my daughter for much too long!"

"It's no game," Niall soothed. "And—after today—the situation with your daughter will be handled. You have my word."

Felipe—looking a little uncertain about the happenings—got up to leave the room with another glare in Eric's direction. "Half an hour! And then that boy does right by Freyda!" he gruffed before Henry, too, stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"What the fuck is going on?" Appius growled.

"Come and sit," Niall said with authority. "And I will tell you a little story."

Reluctantly, Appius joined the gathering and sat in the seat Felipe had vacated. He glanced at Eric's hand and saw something shining back at him. "What the fuck is that?" Appius asked.

"I'm married," Eric responded evenly, "and I have been for weeks now. And I'm no longer going to hide it by taking off the ring my wife gave to me."

"Married?" Appius growled. "But you cannot be. You have to get my permission to marry!"

"No," Eric said evenly as Bobby produced their contract. "Since the woman I married meets all of the contract's criteria, I did not have to get your direct permission."

"Whom did you marry?" Appius asked, looking at Russell and then Copley. "Isabel? Amelia?"

Eric shook his head. "No. Sookie."

"You breached the contract?" Appius asked, the shock clear in his voice.

Eric shook his head. "No. I did not."

"But you married backwater trash." Appius smiled sinisterly. "I hope you have 10 billion dollars. If you don't you'll soon see the inside of a jail cell."

"I didn't break the terms of the contract, Appius," Eric reiterated. "It just so happened that fate gave me a gift."

"And what was that, boy?" Appius scowled.

"My kin," Niall growled. "One of the heirs of my uncle's unclaimed fortune." He smiled with satisfaction. "Miss Susanna Stackhouse—or should I say Sookie—was officially declared a Brigant and inherited her legacy the week before she married Eric."

"Impossible!" Appius said insistently.

"Seemingly impossible—yes," Eric responded softly. "But Sookie is a Brigant, and we are married. She meets all of the contract's criteria—and then some," he paused, "since—to me—the most important criterion of all is the love that we share."

Niall glared at Appius. "And if you dare to challenge Sookie's birthright, then you will understand my wrath, boy. DNA tests—among other things—have already proven, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Sookie is my kin, so if you try to interfere with her marriage to Eric, you will not live to tell the tale."

"Don't threaten me, old man," Appius steamed.

"I will do as I please," Niall warned. "And you will not do anything to hurt my kin!"

Appius shook his head. "I don't believe this. I don't believe any of it!"

Bobby slid a file in front of Appius. "These DNA results prove that Sookie is a Brigant."

Appius quickly opened the file and thumbed through the results. "How do I know these aren't fake?"

"They aren't. Unlike some, I would never tamper with DNA results," Niall said with a glare.

Appius ran his fingers through his hair, realizing that—at least in the matter of Eric's marriage to the deviant—there was little he could do. And—despite his posturing—he would be reluctant to go up against Niall Brigant. He couldn't help but to be a bit nervous about the suggestiveness of Niall's DNA comment, however. But he thought for a moment and relaxed. There could be no way that anyone would suspect that he'd been the one to get Freyda pregnant or that he planned to do a little DNA test tampering of his own. No. He'd been too careful, and Freyda certainly hadn't indicated to anyone that Appius was the father of her child. It was clear that she now truly believed that the child belonged to Eric.

"Fine," Appius said, looking at Eric. "I accept your marriage to the Brigant girl." He sat forward a little and swirled the remaining scotch in his glass. "It looks like you got what you wanted—after all. Well played."

There was a challenge and a threatening edge to his tone.

"I still want to be your son," Eric said in a quiet voice.

"Our own little foray into DNA testing proved that you were," Appius said casually.

Eric shook his head. "I cannot remember a time when you were my father."

"I can remember," Copley Carmichael said, his tone compelling Appius to look at him. "When Eric was born, we celebrated. Do you remember how my Penelope was pregnant with James at the time? Do you remember how nervous I was? When I saw you with Eric, I was a little jealous. You were such a natural father. You were proud. You loved your son!"

Appius shook his head, trying to shake away the memories of his first few years as Eric's father. He tried to shut out the memory of Eric's first word: "daddy." He tried to shut out all of the times he played blocks with his son—his son who seemed to be a budding architect even at three years old. Eric would never be without his blocks and would drag a bucket of them everywhere he went—whether it be with Appius to the office or to breakfast each morning.

Appius had bought him so many blocks.

And they'd spent hours and hours playing with them together, building structures only to tear them down and then build them again and again.

Once more, the elder Northman shook his head and steeled himself. The blocks had been the first thing that he had thrown away after Eric was packed up and sent to school.

Unless the love he'd once felt for the boy was counted.

That had been thrown out as soon as Appius had read about Stella's affair with Peder.

"I built a life around Stella and the family I wanted with her," Appius said gruffly. "But it tumbled down like a pile of building blocks in the hands of a toddler."

"I'm a father now," Eric said quietly. "I've made you a grandfather."

Appius looked at his eldest son through narrowed eyes. "So you are going to do what is right by Freyda de Castro—after all? Is that why Felipe is here? He will not like that you have married another after getting his daughter pregnant."

Eric shook his head. "You and I both know who the father of Freyda's child really is, and it is not me—though the child and I do share some DNA."

Appius glared at his son. "I don't know what you are playing at, boy. But these matters are personal—family matters. And if you are not willing to live up to your responsibilities after getting Freyda pregnant, you certainly shouldn't air your dirty laundry in front of others."

Eric sighed and pulled a picture out of his jacket pocket. He leaned forward and slid the picture toward Appius.

The elder Northman looked down at the image.

"That picture was taken this morning. My son—Johan—will be two weeks old tomorrow," Eric said, his voice catching with emotion as he said his beloved son's name. "And I plan to take him home tomorrow—to my and Sookie's home."

Appius looked at the picture of the tiny baby. He'd had enough children of his own to be able to tell that the infant was smaller than usual, and if he had been in the hospital for two weeks, something had obviously gone wrong. However, the child looked healthy other than his slight size. He had a splash of light blond hair, but what stood out to Appius were the infant's eyes. They were bright blue and inquisitive as he looked at the camera. If Appius didn't know better, he would have said that the child was taunting him with those eyes. The eyes were the same color as Eric's, and even in the infant's tiny state, Appius could see that he was Eric's carbon copy in every other way too—right down to the dimple on his god-forsaken chin.

"Well—at least you know he's yours—just by looking at him," Appius said venomously, shoving the picture back toward Eric. "I never had such an assurance. He looks like you, and you look like her."

"Please, Appius, stop all this. And let Eric out of his contract," Copley pleaded.

"Never," Appius sneered. "It won't be me who breaks our agreement—not unless Eric agrees to forfeit every bit of NP that he has or will ever have," he growled.

"I'm not going to do that," Eric said softly. "NP was started by my grandfather's grandfather—the man you and my mother named me for. I won't just give it all away to you."

"That wouldn't work anyway," Desmond Cataliades said from the corner of the room where he was stationed. He had a large glass of stout in his hand and was looking at Appius as if he wanted to send a dagger with his gaze. "And you know it, Appius."

"I suppose we're here because of you," Appius said, his voice laced with hatred. "You broke the confidentiality clause in my father's Will—didn't you? I'll see you disbarred, and I'll sue your goddamned firm for every single cent you have!" he yelled pounding his fist onto the table.

Desmond chuckled, though his eyes held no mirth. "Bring up disbarment proceedings if you wish. And sue me if you must. But know this—John would have been ashamed of you! He hoped that the codicil would prevent you from doing something stupid or from damaging Eric even more. He hoped that you would one day see Eric's merit—just as he did. He hoped that one day you would become worthy of a son such as Eric!"

Appius scoffed with disbelief. "Worthy of him? The weak son of a whore?" He shook his head. "He doesn't deserve the Northman name!"

"Appius!" Russell said, his voice managing to sound both enraged and perfectly rational. "I am not a violent man. But if you insult Stella one more time, I will become one."

"That's right," Appius said, glaring at him. "You had quite the thing for my wife—didn't you? Tell me—did she fuck you too?"

Russell growled, and everyone in the room shivered at the sound of it. "Yes—I loved Stella," he said. "From the first moment I laid eyes on her, I loved her. Everyone did! And when my wife died giving birth to my Izzy, Stella kept me from putting a bullet through my goddamned brain and making my baby girl an orphan."

"So you did sleep with Stella!" Appius accused.

"No!" Russell responded. "She was in love with you—you fucking fool! She never looked twice at me—except in friendship or compassion. But if she would have had me, I would have counted my fucking blessings for eternity!"

Appius glared at him.

"Instead—she settled for you. I knew about that idiotic 'agreement' you had made with her before you got married, and it always floored me that she was willing to let you gallivant around town, but I didn't question it because of her," Russell seethed. "Because when Stella told me you were a good man, I believed her." Russell shook his head, "And you were a good man then. I remember that too! I used to like you—respect you."

Appius downed the rest of his liquor and got up to refill his glass from a decanter in the corner of the room. His emotions were whirling all over his face, and Eric was certain that if he were alone with his father, the choking he had received from Appius in January would seem like child's play.

However, when Appius sat back down, he looked at Eric with a cool disdain. "You orchestrated all this to tell me you were married? So that I wouldn't interfere with that? But I'm betting you had more in mind." He sat back and took a sip of his liquor, seemingly ready for anything Eric had to say.

"Yes," Eric said softly. "There was another purpose."

Eric reached into a bag at his feet and pulled out a beautifully wrapped box. "Do you recognize this?"

"No!" Appius gruffed.

"I have tried to give you this gift for many years—in fact, ever since it was given to me by my grandfather. I thought it should be yours."

"What are you talking about?"

"Every Father's Day. Every Christmas. Ever since I was twenty-one and received this as part of my inheritance from Grandfather John, I have wrapped this gift and brought it to you. Markus removes it from the trash every time, and he sends it back to me. Obviously, you've never opened it."

"Because I want nothing from you," Appius said nonchalantly, as if they were having a casual chat.

"Except for my suffering," Eric sighed.

"Yes. Except for that."

Eric reached out with the gift. "This is the last time I will try."

Appius shook his head. "I don't want your pathetic attempts for my affection."

Eric nodded sadly and then opened the gift himself. Inside was the pen that had been given to his namesake Erik Northman, the first Northman in the United States—the one who started the family's fortune.

Appius's eyes widened.

"You recognize it," Eric commented, reverently taking the pen out the olivewood box he'd made for it. Of course, he intended to say that the box was inherited with the pen—if asked. He set the pen onto the table and lifted up the lining of the box. There was an aged-looking piece of paper there. "It's ironic that you could have prevented me from learning of the codicil to Grandfather John's will if you had only taken my gift," he lied. In truth, Agent Travis Fletcher had helped Bobby find a document specialist who had written a fake letter using a sample of John Northman's handwriting. Although Desmond Cataliades had been ready and willing to say that he'd spilled the beans about the codicil, Eric had seen a way to keep the lawyer from facing potential trouble—the pen.

"What's that?" Appius asked, looking at the piece of paper in Eric's hands.

"I found this when I went to rewrap your present last Father's Day," he lied.  
I'd never tested to see if the lining of the box could be lifted. I don't know why I did it that time. Fate—I guess."

Eric slid the letter toward Appius, who read it quickly, his anger obviously rising with each word.

Of course, Eric knew well what the forged letter said. It was succinct. It informed Eric of the terms of the codicil and told him to contact Desmond Cataliades. It was clear that Appius didn't doubt the letter's authenticity, which meant that Desmond was covered.

"It seems like my own father's betrayal knew no bounds," Appius said, even as he tore the letter in two.

Eric sat forward and nodded at Bobby. "You deserve this moment, bror."

Bobby smiled at Eric. They both knew that one of the main reasons why Eric had signed the contract with Appius in the first place was so that Godric could live out the last of his days in peace.

"So you are having your fucking attack dog deal with me? Are you not man enough to do it yourself?" Appius challenged.

"Perhaps you are unaware that Bobby is my nephew's child," Niall said. "If you insult him—or any of my kin again—you and I will have words about it."

"Thanks, Uncle," Bobby said, "but I've had worse said about me."

"Not in front of me," Niall said forcefully.

Bobby smiled at his great-uncle appreciatively. He'd rarely seen Niall with his hackles up, but even pushing 85, he was formidable.

"So?" Appius asked, looking at Bobby. "What does my son wish for me to know today?"

Eric cringed as the word "son" came out of Appius's mouth as if it were some kind of joke.

Bobby moved to stand right behind Eric and put his hand onto his friend's shoulder and gave it a little squeeze before speaking. "My client believes that it is high time that the contract you two signed was renegotiated."

"Why would I want to do that?" Appius asked.

"Because—if you don't, Eric will break the contract on his thirty-fifth birthday, and then he'll simply wait until your sixtieth birthday when you will be forced to give him the 30% of the stock you still own plus the market value of 37% more." Bobby smiled at Appius. "That is what I have counseled that he do—you know. The codicil to John Northman's Will is very clear, after all. Either you make Eric CEO by the time you turn sixty, or the value of the 67% of the company that John Northman left to you—plus the title of CEO—goes to Eric anyway." Bobby closed his eyes as if savoring the moment. "Oh—we know that you'd still make a menace out of yourself, wielding the stock that you still controlled through others like Nora and Andre like a dethroned tyrant. However, no matter what you did, Eric would remain CEO. He would also have 30% of the stock, compared to the 7% he has now, which he would write over to me. And—trust me—you would make Eric incredibly wealthy by paying him the amount of 37% more."

A low, guttural growl emanated from Appius. "I have made NP what it is today. My father had no goddamned right to produce that codicil."

"You forget yourself," Niall said. "Yes—NP has grown under your stewardship; however, John sold most of his other businesses in order to give you a great deal of capital to work with. It was that money that allowed you to expand NP."

"Yes," Desmond added. "Even in the end, John believed in you—even after he discovered how you had treated Eric. It's why he wrote the codicil. He wanted to give you time to figure things out for yourself, and he didn't want you to die behind your desk at NP. He figured that if he required that you retire by 60 and hand the reins over to Eric, he would be protecting both of you."

Appius scoffed and shook his head. "No—my father knew how much I hated Eric. He knew it! Yet he still sought to torment me by forcing me to give up my company—mine—to him." He looked at Eric with hatred glowing in his eyes. "I have given my life to NP, and because of the generosity of my father," he intoned sarcastically, "I don't even have a say about what happens to it."

Eric sighed. "You could." He looked up at Bobby.

Bobby took a folded set of papers out of his pocket. "A new contract—for your consideration," he said, handing the papers to Appius.


	22. Inflexible

Chapter 22: Inflexible

Appius glared at Bobby as he took the papers roughly from his hand. "Summarize!" he demanded from Bobby.

Niall glared at Appius, but said nothing.

"Despite my advice to the contrary, Eric does not wish to take control of your stock, nor does he wish to bleed your finances dry," Bobby informed. "I told him that he should do both—by the way."

Appius tossed the new contract onto the table. "What does my son want?"

"Peace," Eric said. "Peace with my family—you included."

Appius scoffed.

Bobby sat down in the empty chair next to Eric. "Let me tell you the score, Appius."

"We are not on a first name basis, boy," Appius growled.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Okay. Here's the score, asshole. Eric will remain the head of the international division at NP, but those endless reports he used to have to do for you will remain a thing of the past. You will not interfere with his work in any way. He will have total control over the hiring and firing in that division. Eric turns 35 two months before you turn 60. During those two months, a transition team will be put into place to act as liaisons between Eric and you. At the end of those two months, you will step down as CEO. Out of courtesy, Eric will send you copies of all quarterly reports for the company and will accept suggestions from you—in writing—should you wish to give them; however, I get to read them first, and if there are any derisive comments regarding Eric or anyone else he cares for, I get to tear up your suggestions—or burn them, depending on my mood."

Scowling, Appius looked at Bobby and then at Eric. "Why would I offer you any help after you steal my company?"

Eric sighed. "I'm not stealing it. I'll be running it. And you have—as you said—spent more than thirty years running it. And running it well. I'm not fool enough to disregard that."

Russell nodded approvingly in Eric's direction, but said nothing.

"What else?" Appius asked, through almost-closed lips.

"There will be no removing Eric from the position of CEO until he decides to retire. After that, he agrees to appoint Appius, Jr. to CEO should he want the position and be qualified for the job. If not, Eric will choose the successor, looking to family members first—of course. And," Bobby said with a smile on his face, "that will include Eric's own children."

"Unacceptable!" Appius seethed.

"Why?" Eric asked. "Why would that be unacceptable?" He shook his head. "Do you really think I'd hurt my brother? Or any of my siblings? Including Nora, I would do anything for any of them."

"What of Nora in all of this?" Appius asked, looking concerned for the first time.

"I have covered her too many times while she's been CFO," Eric said quietly. "And even you cannot be blind to that fact." He took a deep breath. "I intend to make Pam my CFO. I'll offer Nora another position in the company, or she can stay on as Pam's Deputy CFO. It will be her choice."

"You would demote her!?" Appius raged, once more pounding his first onto the table.

Eric forced himself not to show a reaction to his father's anger. "Yes," he said. "She will probably be happy about it—truth be told. You know she never wanted so much responsibility." He sighed. "I thought she was doing better too, but lately her work has been slipping again. Despite everything, I don't want her to fail. And—if responsible for less—she would, perhaps, thrive."

Appius glared at Eric. "Is there more to this renegotiated contract?" he asked through clenched teeth.

Bobby nodded. "Yes. You will not be allowed to have access to Eric and Sookie's children—at least not for the foreseeable future. However, Eric will be allowed to visit with his siblings—away from your home, of course."

Eric sat forward a little. "And I will no longer have you threaten anyone I love. You will stop Michelle Stackhouse's book from being published."

Appius smiled sinisterly, "Too late. Jade Flower finished it last month, and it will be released on Tuesday. It has already been shipped to the stores."

"If one copy hits the newsstands," Eric said, his own eyes now competing with the rage in Appius's, "I swear to God that I will take everything from you." His tone became cold steel. "Everything."  
Appius shrugged off Eric's words.

"In addition," Bobby said, slicing through the tension with his calm voice, "you are to hand over all of the fabricated evidence you have connecting Sookie to Felipe de Castro's spying. And you are to sign an affidavit that indicates her innocence in the situation."

"No fucking way," Appius said with a sinister smile. "Your new wife will soon be in jail."

"No," Niall said evenly. "She won't be. If you try anything along those lines, Appius, I'll bury you."

"You can't do anything to me," Appius grinned. "I have all the evidence I need to ensure Sookie goes to prison for quite a while."

"You should think about de Castro," Russell said. "I'm sure he'll agree to profess Sookie's innocence."

"Why would he do that?" Appius asked, glaring at Eric. "After the way you have used and then tossed Freyda aside—especially now that she's carrying your child—there's no way he'd help you."

Eric leaned forward. "He will help me. It's the 'how' that is still up in the air."

"What do you mean?" Appius asked gruffly.

Eric sat back. "As I indicated earlier, I know that you are the father of Freyda's child." He looked at Bobby, who produced a file folder, which he slid over to Appius. "In that file are copies of all the emails you have exchanged with Dr. Sheraton, as well as photos of Freyda going to see you in your office. They clearly tell the tale that you hoped our DNA was enough alike to make it seem as if I were the father of Freyda's child—even though you are the actual father."

Appius looked down at Eric's evidence, which consisted of the emails, plus articles regarding DNA testing differences between children and their parents and grandparents. Although Appius's instructions to the doctor were not explicitly stated, it was clear that the doctor intended to falsify his paternity report, and it was clear that Appius was paying him to do it.

"You will also see a page outlining sworn testimony we received from Dr. Sheraton himself, so it is too late to try to intimidate him into silence. In fact, I imagine he is planning to relocate even as we speak," Bobby said. "And I'm guessing that if it comes down to a choice between facing the Medical Board and betraying you, the good doctor will do the latter."

Appius growled.

"There is also a sworn statement from Warren Daniels, a computer specialist with the FBI," Bobby smiled. "As you can see, it explains how he altered a video at the behest of Lorena Krasiki in order to make it appear as if Eric had slept with Freyda in his home. Agent Daniels has agreed to testify that Agent Krasiki had a personal grudge against Sookie Northman, because of her jealousy over Sookie's past relationship with a lover of hers. And—when confronted—I would imagine that Lorena would turn on you faster than a snake could smile," Bobby added with a grin.

"So," Eric said, sitting forward again, "if you agree to give me any evidence you have of supposed crimes that anyone I care about may have committed, I will let you spin the Freyda thing as you wish with de Castro. You could paint yourself as the 'poor, rich seduced man.' You can say that you didn't confess earlier out of the hope that Freyda and I would get together or because you didn't want to hurt Sophie-Anne. You can say that it was a mistake, but that you will take responsibility for that child. And you will make sure that Freyda gets the psychological help she needs. Though not mine, that child is innocent." He regarded Appius with a strong, steady gaze. "And if I ever hear that you have mistreated that baby—or any other child you might have—as you mistreated me, God himself won't be able to save you from my wrath!"

"I thought you'd learned not to threaten me, boy," Appius said with pure hatred in his tone.

"I've learned a lot from you," Eric said firmly, "and I don't want for any other child to learn the same."

"As of today, Freyda's child is old enough for DNA testing," Desmond said. "And we certainly have enough evidence to make you part of that testing, Appius."

Appius glared at the lawyer. "Even if the child is mine, what I choose to do with it is up to me."

"No!" Bobby said. "It is a term in the new contract. You are to see to the care of the child, which involves seeing to the mental health of the mother."

"I know that you have encouraged Freyda's delusions that I am her child's father. And even from a television broadcast, it's clear to me that she's disturbed. Hell—she was hanging on by a thread before all this happened." Eric sighed. "I know —better than anyone—what you are willing to do to gain your revenge against me, but getting her pregnant? Subjecting a child to Freyda's insanity and your revenge?" Eric shook his head sadly.

"You have no idea what I would do to hurt you," Appius said in almost a whisper. "You have no idea what I could still do."

"No!" Eric said forcefully. "In this contract, there are provisions to protect those I care about, and you will be giving me the trust fund immediately. My morfar's property will be mine. And my mormor's pension will be established separately from the company so that it is secure. According to the new contract, you cannot fire Pam or cause harm to Alexei or Gracie or anyone else I care for in order to get to me. If you do," Eric paused, "you will forfeit all your remaining stock to me."

Appius looked down at the contract. "Anything else?"

Eric shook his head.

"I'm not going to sign this," Appius said coldly. "I will exhaust every goddamned cent of my fortune to find a way out of the stipulations of my father's Will. Hell—I'll even liquidate NP if it comes to that."

"No. No you won't," Copley said in a quiet voice.

Appius looked up at his old friend. "And what do you intend to do about it, Cope?" he challenged.

"What I should have done the first moment I sensed you were mistreating Eric," Copley said. He shook his head. "I know you understand blackmail, Appius. I know that you have used it many times to make Eric fall in line. And now it will be used to make you fall in line."

"I advocated that Eric destroy you right off," Russell said threateningly. "But he refused. Now it will be a pleasure to participate in your destruction—since you refuse to see reason."

"Destroy me?" Appius asked defiantly.

"Yes," Russell sat forward. "We will begin by exposing all the lovers you have had over the years—both female and male."

Appius scoffed.

"We have photographic evidence of you with several men, including your wife's brother," Bobby said. "Of course—in this day and age, that kind of scandal would only last a week in this city. But when it is added to what you did to Freyda, it would last quite a bit longer."

"Then, prepare to see your mother's name dragged through the mud with mine," Appius said harshly, focusing his words on Eric.

"If one word about Stella hits the tabloids, I swear to God you will pay," Russell threatened.

"You can't do a goddamned thing to me," Appius returned.

"But I can," Copley said quietly. "You and I both know that I can."

"You'll end up in prison right next to me," Appius threatened.

"I know," Copley said with a sigh. "Maybe I deserve to go there for profiting from the pain of others."

"What are you talking about?" Desmond asked.

Copley sighed. "As you know, Appius and I used to be partners in several real estate ventures and some," he paused, "less than reputable hedge funds. Right before the housing bubble burst, we obtained some information we should not have been privy to. It saved us both billions."

"We did nothing illegal," Appius said vehemently. "We simply acted on a tip."

"We shouldn't have been involved in those hedge funds to start with, and you and I both know that the 'tip' wasn't legally obtained," Copley said.

"You've gone soft. Our shifting from those investments to capital did nothing to hurt the economy as a whole," Appius insisted.

"We'll never know that for sure," Copley said. "And it doesn't matter. The government is looking for poster boys to take the fall for the economic crisis—to make the American people feel that it's doing its job."

"You'll lose everything," Appius said. "Paul and Amelia will lose everything."

Copley sighed. "You're right. And that's why I selfishly hope that you will do what's right and sign the goddamned contract! You owe Eric, Appius. You owe him a life!"

"My sperm already provided that," Appius said sarcastically as he rose from his chair.

Russell leveled a glare at him. "I will admit that you are more powerful than I am," he said. "You have slightly more money and slightly more influence; however, I will do my level best to destroy you in any way I can if you don't see reason and sign the goddamned contract."

"So will I," Niall said. "And the Brigant name is not to be trifled with."

"Nor is the Carmichael name," Copley added.

"And I'm sure we will soon be able to insert de Castro to the list," Russell added.

"And at least one Northman," Eric said in a quiet voice. "On my own, I might not have much to fight with, but I have so much to fight for now." He leveled a steady and certain stare at Appius. "And I will win."

Appius shook his head. "No. You never will."

"Please," Eric said, "just sign the contract. Then we'll tell de Castro you are the father of Freyda's child. Then we can get her some help." He sighed. "I know you can be a good father. I've seen it with Nora and Pam. I've seen it was Alexei and Gracie. And I've seen it with Appius, Jr. They all love you. And I can see that you love them. And I know that part of you could love Freyda's baby—your baby."

"That little bastard was meant to be yours," Appius said through clenched teeth.

"And maybe I was meant to be Peder's, but that's not how things worked out," Eric responded.

Appius slammed his empty glass onto the table, causing the glass to shatter. However, Eric didn't flinch; he kept his eyes fixed on his father's.

Desmond shook his head. "It's not logical for you not to sign the new contract," he said in a reasonable tone. "Eric is, after all, giving you what you want in a lot of ways. He will be NP's steward until Appius Jr. is ready, and we both know that Eric will be good for the company. Just look at what he's done for the international division in a few short years. And he's not even asking that you include him in your Will. All he wants is the trust fund that was always meant for him and the opportunity to live in peace with his family and do a job that he's good at."

Appius turned on his heel and walked toward the door of the private lounge.

"You have 24 hours," Bobby said. "If you don't agree to sign the contract by then, you can expect for hell to be released upon you."

Appius kept right on walking.


	23. Cornered

Chapter 23: Cornered

"Natural disasters are terrifying - that loss of control, this feeling that something is just going to randomly end your life for absolutely no reason is terrifying. But, what scares me is the human reaction to it and how people behave when the rules of civility and society are obliterated."

—Eli Roth

Appius Northman had always worked very hard to keep himself under control—maybe too hard. In fact, he could count on only one hand how many times he'd truly "lost it."

The first was when he'd walked in on Peder and Stella having sex. No. That's not what they'd been doing. They had been making love. The looks on their faces had told him that. There had been ecstasy between them—an intimacy that Appius wasn't sure he'd achieved with either of them, and that thought had eaten through him slowly over the years.

His immediate reaction upon seeing them had been to let out a tortured yell, like a man whose heart had just been cut out. Through burning tears, he'd struck Peder—hitting him again and again. He'd wanted to kill him. He would have killed him. But a cool hand on his arm had stopped him. Stella's hand.

After that, Appius had thought that Stella understood. Theirs was certainly not a conventional relationship—nor did he need her physical faithfulness. But he did need her heart.

He would have given her anything. He did give her the most important thing—his own heart. He had said goodbye to Peder too that day—first with his fists and then with tears that burned his eyes as they were shed. Appius understood well that he was being selfish when he asked Stella to choose, especially since Peder was only in their lives because Appius had needed Stella there when he first let himself be with a man. Her presence—though it may have seemed odd to many—had allowed Appius to be himself with Peder. And that "self" threatened to break when he saw Stella giving herself to another as she'd been doing with Peder. It hadn't even been the physical act that they'd been participating in that had driven him to temporary madness. It had been the look in her eyes. It was the look she gave to Appius, and he couldn't stand sharing that.

Not that.

But Stella had chosen him. She had—seemingly—said goodbye to Peder. And she had never looked at Appius with any less love, despite his violent moment. Thus, he had felt secure in what they were to each other.

Despite what Russell had suggested, Appius had desired very few lovers while he was with Stella. She satisfied almost every need he ever had, but occasionally something within him would stir—a longing to be with a man. Stella always recognized that stirring even before Appius did, and she would encourage him to find a lover. Even then, however, Appius would not have relationships with the men he fucked. They satisfied a physical need that he had. However, it was still Stella's soft body—the only female body that had ever attracted him to a great extent—that he craved most days.

But it was more than her body that he desired—that he wanted to own. It was her mind and her heart and her spirit. It was the way that she could make him laugh with just a look. It was the way her eyebrow would shoot up whenever she thought he was being an ass. She challenged him. She supported him. She held him steady. She knew everything about him—things that confused the hell out of Appius himself—yet, still, she loved him.

But she had loved another too, and Appius couldn't accept that. He never could. He sighed. It seemed that Eric and he might share that trait—being able to give their hearts to only one person during their lifetime.

For Appius, that person had been Stella. God help him—it was still Stella. He'd fucked many people during the years since her death—but none of them had ever made him believe that he was someone to be "loved" as she had. All of the people he'd fucked—with the exception of Stella—had had a motive that had nothing to do with love.

He scoffed. Most of his lovers throughout the years had been attracted to his money or his power. Appius had no illusions about the people he'd screwed; they'd wanted something from him. Even Andre was with him only because he craved a powerful man to care for him.

Yes—even Peder had had a motive; he was experimenting just as much as Appius was during their college days. Though both Peder and Appius were bisexuals, neither had experienced actual intercourse with a man before Stella helped them to find each other. Indeed, now that Appius could look back on things with perspective, it seemed clear to him that Peder's true motive had been to take Stella from him—to steal her.

Appius closed his eyes, wishing that he would have just killed Peder those many years ago—wishing that Stella hadn't helped him to regain his control.

The second time that Appius had lost his reign upon his control had been when he found the letter that Stella had written to Peder—the one in which their secret affair was exposed.

The one in which she told Peder that she loved him.

The one in which she said that a piece of her heart would always belong to him.

Appius's personal attorney at the time of Stella's death, Dermot Faeman, the father of Neave and Lochlan, had given him Stella's Will before the official reading. It wasn't that Dermot or Appius had suspected Stella of wrongdoing. On the contrary, Dermot had been a good friend to both Appius and Stella, and he had wanted to give the grieving widower the chance to look at the Will privately so that he could control his emotions during the reading.

Appius had wept when he read how Stella trusted him so much that she gave him all she had, which included a nice-sized inheritance from her grandparents. She had written him a letter, telling him how much she loved him and their children and lamenting the fact that she was not going to be able to stay with him and grow old with him. He'd been surprised by the lock-box, which was meant for Elsa, for he'd not known about it. But he'd not been suspicious—just curious. He hadn't opened the lockbox right away; in fact, he probably wouldn't have opened it at all, except that he couldn't find sleep the night before Stella's funeral.

He remembered everything that happened back then was if it had been captured by slow motion cameras. Many times throughout the years, the events had replayed in his head. In truth, sometimes he couldn't stop them from playing, even though he tried.

Even when he tried to drown his memories in scotch.

Stella had been diagnosed with breast cancer while she was carrying Eric—just a few months before he was to be born. Thankfully, the cancer was not spreading quickly. Stella, of course, had wanted to wait until Eric was full-term before aggressively treating the disease. Appius's own feelings on the matter had been mixed.

But he had trusted Stella.

When Eric had been born, the child had lit up Appius's world almost as much as his mother had. His son and wife shared the same startling blue eyes and smile, and there was nothing Appius loved more than eliciting smiles from them both. Thankfully, Stella's cancer still had not spread very far, and radiation therapy worked. She had gone into remission after only a few months of treatment. And everything seemed fine until three years later.

Stella had fainted during Eric's fourth birthday party. She contended that she was just tired, but Appius insisted she go to the doctor. The cancer had come back, but this time, nothing the doctors did stopped it.

He spared no expense in getting the best doctors around the world to come and consult on her case, but the disease was in her lymph nodes, and no one could do a goddamned thing to help her.

For a year, the cancer slowly ate away at her body until she was a weakened version of her once glorious self, but—through everything—Appius had found her no less beautiful. They had spoken a lot of their plans for their two children, Stella making him promise that he would see to it that Eric and Pam were happy.

As she became frailer and frailer, he hardly ever left her side. His own father stepped in to run the company during that period of time, and Appius stayed with his beloved Stella—his star.

The day she'd died, the best part of himself went with her.

She had drifted away in a peaceful sleep, tucked into his arms. He had felt her last breath pushed from her lungs and then the stiffness of her unanimated body. But he had kept hold of her, still, trying to push the cold away with his own warmth.

He would have sold his soul to eradicate that cold from her body—to see her eyes look at him with love once more.

But neither his money nor his soul had been enough to buy her life.

After his father finally convinced him that he needed to get up so that Stella's body could be taken to the funeral home, Appius had returned to the room he'd shared with Stella before her illness kept her from climbing the stairs of their home. He looked at the bed that had once held so much warmth, and his sobs had come in an uncontrollable torrent. He'd gone to the small secretary desk Stella had found in an antique store. He unlocked the top and removed the gun that he'd bought two months earlier—the day he'd been told that there was no hope for his wife's survival.

After all, how could he live on without his star?

He stared at the weapon for hours—before deciding that he should say goodbye to his children before he followed their mother.

Appius had gone to Pam's room first. She was only two and a half years old then, and she was a quiet child. She lay asleep, and even when he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, she'd not awoken. She simply cuddled further into her blanket as if the world hadn't just fallen apart.

On the contrary, Eric was five and extremely perceptive, and he knew a bit about what was happening. Appius would never forget going into his son's room the night after Stella had died. As if the child had known about his mother's death by instinct, he was already crying, huge round tears wetting the eyes he'd inherited from Stella. Appius had pulled Eric into his arms and rocked them both for hours.

And—in the early hours of the morning—when Eric finally went to sleep, Appius resolved that he would stay alive for his children. As Stella had wished, he would focus his energy on them, despite the fact that a big part of himself still wanted to put a bullet into his brain so that he could share the same grave as his beloved.

But he could not do that—not to his children, especially not to his son, who was so sensitive and caring, just like his mother.

As Appius lay his son into his bed and kissed his brow, he realized that Eric had saved his life that night, for Appius was certain that had Eric been asleep, he would have kissed his son goodbye and gone back upstairs to his gun.

Less than 24 hours later, Appius's world—and maybe a part of his sanity—shattered when he learned that Stella had continued seeing Peder. And on that day, Appius learned to hate the little boy who had just saved his life—the child that he had loved so goddamned much that hating him ripped out what was left of his tattered soul.

In that moment of ripping, Appius had, once again, lost control. In blind rage and sorrow, he'd destroyed the room he'd once shared with Stella. He'd contemplated taking the gun downstairs and using it on the bastard child of his cheating wife, but he'd refrained. And—when he'd eventually regained a semblance of control, his emotions felt cold. That was the moment when he'd begun to plan his ultimate revenge upon Stella, using her son to do it.

On that day, he also vowed that he would never lose control again—that he would be the master of his emotions. And for a long time, he had been. However, he'd lost control again the January before when he'd almost choked Eric. He'd almost killed him—wanted to kill him. He'd almost let his baser instincts take over and forever rid the world of the light of Stella's eyes.

But now that light had been transferred once more—to an infant that looked so much like Eric that it made Appius's arms ache in remembrance of holding his firstborn son.

"Johan," Appius said out loud. It was the same name he and Stella had once decided for Eric's middle name—so that they could honor both of their fathers: Johan and John.

"Eric" had been chosen for "Erik Northman," the first Northman who had come to America from Scotland. He and Stella had laughed one night after they'd made love in the early months of her pregnancy with Eric, wondering if "Erik Northman" had been of Viking heritage as Stella was. The name had—after that night—seemed perfect for their firstborn.

Erik Northman had been ambitious and ultimately very successful. He'd been known for his luck and for his enduring love for the young heiress he'd married a few years after making his own fortune in America. Yes—the name "Eric" had been perfect.

The child with the name had been even more perfect.

Appius shook himself and poured a full glass of scotch. The liquor, he knew, was a crutch for him now—a way to deaden feelings that he needed to numb in order to function.

And that crutch was now needed—more than it ever had been before. For the fourth time in his life, Appius felt truly out of control—almost separated from himself. Had the others not been around, he had no doubt that he would have tried to kill Eric again. But this time, he wouldn't have stopped until the breath had been squeezed from his son's body.

Eric's very existence threatened to take all that Appius had ever worked for—all that he had left. Eric would take NP. Eric would take Appius's hard-earned fortune. Eric would turn all of his siblings against Appius, and he would lose them too.

Lose everything.

And Appius could do nothing to stop any of those things from happening. Now that the codicil was no longer secret, Eric had all the power. And that thought riddled into Appius's head like buckshot.

Years of suffering because of Stella.

Years of toil because of Eric.

And worst of all, Eric had found a way to get everything that Appius had ever wanted—a wife who loved him and a son he'd never doubt was his own.

And now Eric would be taking his company!

A company which had been the only thing to keep Appius sane after Stella's betrayal.

Appius smiled and downed another drink. Eric thought he'd won. He thought he would be happy. But Eric was wrong. Appius wouldn't allow Eric to take anything more from him.

He would be the one doing the taking!

He pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Are things arranged yet?" he asked gruffly.

"Yes," Franklin Mott said. "Everything is ready for you, but . . . ."

Appius cut him off. "Just do what I pay you to do," he growled, "and take care of the guard."

"Understood," Mott said, even as Appius hung up.

Appius used the intercom to call Sigebert, who was driving the limo. "How far?"

"We'll be in East Hampton in ten minutes, Sir," Sigebert responded.

"Good," Appius said.

A seemingly permanent smile etched onto her face, Sookie tucked her newly-asleep infant into the regular crib he'd been sleeping in for the previous two days. He looked like a little burrito, swaddled in the orange blanket Claudine had given them. Her smile grew. She knew that Johan would—as soon as he woke up—begin to un-swaddle himself. Indira called him "the little Houdini," and even the experienced nurse couldn't tuck the infant in tight enough so that he didn't un-tuck himself at the first opportunity.

In that way—as well as so many others—he took after his father. Eric always slept with his hands and feet outside of the blanket. Sookie used to think it was because he was so tall and the blankets simply didn't fit his body, but now she knew better. She chuckled and looked down at their child. "At least you won't be a blanket thief when you grow up and meet someone."

"No," Indira said from behind Sookie as she came in to check on the child, "that one will steal more hearts than covers—I think."

Sookie smiled at the nurse who had taken such good care of Johan during the previous weeks. She seemed to always be around, and Sookie wondered if she slept sometimes. Other nurses popped in and out too—Chow being the one who looked after Johan the second most often. But Indira was certainly the one with whom they'd all grown closest. She felt like family.

"Yeah," Sookie sighed, "he looks just like Eric, so we'll have to beat off girls or boys—or maybe both—with a stick."

Indira chuckled. "Indeed." She looked down at the sleeping child. "I see you have wrapped him up tight."

Sookie smiled. "Yeah—but it will probably take him only a minute to get out of his blanket once he wakes up."

"Or less," Indira grinned.

"Do you think we'll really be able to take him home tomorrow?" Sookie asked hopefully.

"Yes," Indira said confidently. "Unless something unforeseen happens." She smiled reassuringly when Sookie suddenly looked worried. "And—just so you know—I don't think anything unforeseen will happen. This little boy has been making strides since the moment he was born." She winked. "I have taken care of a lot of premature babies in my time working with Dr. Ludwig, but I have never seen a little one more anxious to get caught up and out of here than Johan. He's quite the stubborn one. And he's a fighter."

Sookie smiled proudly. "I know."

Indira patted Sookie on the back and left the room. Sookie couldn't help but to continue standing next to the crib and watching her son. When he slept, he was the definition of adorable. He looked so serene most of the time, but every once in a while, his little nose would crinkle as if he were dreaming, and then he would wiggle against the confines of his blanket before stilling again.

Thanks to Dr. Ludwig, she and Eric had been able to stay at the hospital nonstop since Johan had been born. Sookie could have been released only three days after his birth; however, the doctor let them stay in their "family room" in the neonatal ward as they waited for Johan to get strong enough to go home. In preparation for that, Eric had gone to Manhattan early that morning—though Sookie had seen him shed a tear when he left her and their son for the first time since Johan's birth. Sookie knew that she would feel the same way when she had to leave Johan's side for the first time.

Eric had spent the morning and early afternoon making sure that the nursery at home was done and ready for their child. He wasn't quite finished with the playroom yet, but he'd called to tell her that Johan's room was ready and that the co-sleeper they'd ordered so that they could keep their tiny boy with them in their room for a while was also put together and awaiting Johan's arrival.

Sookie took several nervous breaths as she thought about Eric's other reason for going to Manhattan—to confront Appius. As expected, the Northman patriarch hadn't signed the new contract, but Eric held out hope that he might, especially since Russell, Niall, and Copley had all been there and had put pressure onto Appius.

It was nice to have allies.

Eric had called Sookie half an hour before to let her know that he and those allies had already planned their next move and that he was on his way back to the hospital. Felipe de Castro had been presented with the evidence that Appius was the father of Freyda's child. And then he'd been told why Appius had done what he had done. As expected, Felipe was in a rage after that. But Russell convinced him not to hunt down Appius and kill him. Instead, Felipe was going to go to Freyda, and he was going to try to get her the help she needed.

Of course, Appius's reaction had been just as expected as well. He'd said hurtful things to Eric and had stormed out of the club. Sookie shivered as she wondered what his next move would be.

She sighed, took a calming breath, and closed her eyes for a moment, refusing to let Appius's reaction stress her out. She had much more important things to focus on, after all.

Up until about sixty hours before, Johan had spent much of his time in a special incubator, designed to keep his lungs from being overly-taxed. After the first few days, Dr. Ludwig had said that the incubator was just a precaution—because she didn't want Johan to develop problems like asthma later on. In truth, Sookie and Eric hadn't minded the doctor being overly cautious with their child—despite the fact that Johan himself seemed a little impatient with all of the fussing. In fact, he seemed more anxious that even Sookie and Eric to get home.

Johan was smaller than a full-term child—to be sure. But it had quickly become apparent that he had the heart of a survivor—and a stubborn one at that. At first, Dr. Ludwig had wanted to keep him in the incubator for a full 24 hours before they held him, but Johan seemed to be having none of that, and he managed to wiggle his way into the little doctor's heart just as quickly as Eric had done.

Within 18 hours, he was out of his box and learning to nurse. It took him a few tries to fully catch on, but now he and Sookie were both pros at the process. However, the place Johan liked to be most was in Eric's arms, specifically against his warm, bare chest. When Indira had suggested that Eric take his shirt off to hold Johan, Sookie's initial reaction had been to wonder about the nurse's motives. Indira had laughed and then explained that Johan would rest easier with Eric if there was skin on skin contact—as there was when Sookie nursed him.

So Eric had taken off his shirt and had lain next to Sookie in the wider than normal hospital bed that had been brought into the room for them. Indira had put Johan on Eric's chest and then had covered him with a blanket, and the rest was—as they say—history. Sookie was almost jealous of the immediate bonding between father and son. Johan was a little wiggle worm on Sookie's chest—at least when he wasn't in a milk coma. But Sookie couldn't blame her child; Eric's arms had always been a resting place for her too—a sanctuary. She intuited that Johan felt safe there, just as she did.

So she would just cuddle up against Eric's side while he held their son and enjoy the love coming from both of them. It really was a beautiful sight to behold when her two boys were together. The only word for it was "magic."

"Hello, Sookie."

She froze at the sound of the acidic voice coming from the doorway behind her.


	24. Monster

Chapter 24: Monster

"There are very few people who are going to look into the mirror and say, 'That person I see is a savage monster;' instead, they make up some construction that justifies what they do."—Noam Chomsky

"Appius?" Sookie squeaked out, though she didn't turn around.

"Yes," came her father-in-law's cold voice even as she also heard the sound of the door closing behind him.

After looking at her sleeping child again, Sookie forced herself to turn around, making sure her body blocked Johan from his grandfather's sight.

The man in front of her looked very different from the Appius she'd seen before. Instead of a business suit, he wore hospital scrubs, his longish gray hair hidden under a scrub cap. Instead of his dark eyes sparkling as he tried to manipulate and charm her, his now almost-black orbs seemed dead—like the eyes of a shark, staring and unfeeling. Instead of offering her a fake, welcoming smile, his lips were curled into a predatory grin.

"What are you doing here, Appius?" Sookie asked cautiously. "How did you get in here?"

He chose to answer only her first question. "I came to see my grandson—of course," he said, his expression becoming even more sinister-looking.

"He's asleep," Sookie responded quickly, her voice shaking. "Maybe you could come back later."

Appius shook his head. "No—I will not be coming back later, Sookie."

Her eyes darted to the door behind him.

"Your guard won't be bothering us either. Mr. Mott injected him with enough tranquilizers to put a horse to sleep." He chuckled maliciously. "You know—it really is amazing what that man can accomplish in such a short amount of time. Just look at me! He was able to make me a doctor in less than 90 minutes." He showed her a security credential with Appius's picture on it.

"What do you want?" Sookie asked, trembling even more than before.

"So many things," Appius said enigmatically, "but let's start with you sitting in the rocking chair." He motioned to where he wanted her using his right hand to do it. Up until that moment, he'd kept that hand in the pocket of his doctor's coat. She wished that he'd left it there, especially when she saw what it was holding: a gun.

"I know that you have already pushed the call button for the nurse," Appius said with a sick grin.

Sookie gasped with fear.

"But do not worry. I assure you it was unnecessary, and no one will disturb us, my dear—at least, not until I'm ready. The second I closed the door, Mr. Mott placed a call to the nurse's station. They have already been alerted to my presence, and they also know that I have this," he said leveling the gun at her. "Now. Sit. Down."

Shuddering with fear, Sookie glanced back at Johan before moving to the chair. Her tiny baby seemed more vulnerable than ever—wrapped up tight in his little blanket as his own grandfather held a gun that could take his life in a millisecond.

"Please. Don't hurt him," Sookie pled as Appius walked toward the crib and peered inside.

Just then, Sookie's phone rang.

Appius looked at her. "You'd better answer that," he said in a low voice.

Sookie knew who it was—knew it in her bones. "Eric," she said as she answered.

Appius put his index finger to his lips in order to signal for her to be quiet, and then he tilted the gun in Johan's direction.

A tear slipped down her face as she and Appius stared at each other.

"Sookie?" came Eric's voice, loud enough for Appius to hear it too. Eric's panic was evident.

Appius smiled and held out his hand, gesturing for Sookie to give him the device.

"I love you," she whispered into the receiver before handing the phone to Appius.

"Sookie!" came Eric's desperate voice again.

"No, not Sookie" Appius said. "Your wife, your son, and I will be waiting for you. When you get to the hospital, come into this room alone. And don't even think about sending in the cavalry," he added.

"Father! No—please!"

"Sookie, tell him what I have in my hand," Appius said coldly, holding the phone out so that Sookie could speak into it.

"A gun," Sookie said as more tears fell from her eyes.

"And tell him who I'm pointing it at," Appius said shifting the aim of the weapon.

"At me."

"And now who?" Appius asked with derision.

"At Johan," Sookie sobbed.

"Do you understand?" Appius asked lifting the phone to his ear so that he could hear Eric's response.

"I understand," Eric responded.

Appius smiled. "Good." He hung up the phone and then threw it across the room.

Sookie's cries came a little louder as Appius reached into the crib and touched Johan's tiny head.

"Shhh," Appius sounded. "We wouldn't want to wake the baby. Not yet."

"Please—don't hurt him," Sookie whimpered. "I'll do anything. Please."

"Shhh. I don't intend to kill your child today, but I will if I'm pushed," Appius said. "I intend to kill you, Sookie. I'll take you from Eric—just as Stella was taken from me. And do you know the best part?" he asked with a crazed look in his eyes.

Sookie's body shook as she shook her head. "No."

"Eric is going to feel responsible when I kill you—like it's his fault. You see—I'm going to make him choose between you and his son. And I know him; he will pick the boy to live. And then I will kill you. And then every day he lives from now on, he'll remember that choice when he looks at Johan. He will grow bitter. Perhaps, he will even grow to hate the boy in time."

"Eric's not like that. He's not like you," Sookie whimpered.

"I suppose Johan will be the one to find that out," Appius grinned.

Sookie shook her head again. "Why do you hate Eric so much? All he has ever wanted was your love."

"If that were true, he wouldn't be trying to take away my company," Appius growled.

"He's not trying to do that," Sookie said quietly.

"You know nothing," Appius returned icily.

Sookie tried another tactic. "You'll go to prison if you go through with this. It's not too late to stop this."

"No—it is Eric's actions that would put me into a prison—a prison of his making. And I don't intend to let him."

"If you hurt us, you'll be caught. You won't be able to get away."

"Oh—I know that," Appius sneered. "And getting away is the least of my concerns. After I kill you—after I kill Eric's star—I'm going to reunite with my own. With my Stella. It's the only way," he said rabidly.

And—in that moment—Sookie knew that Appius was a psychopath. And—she knew that she would likely be dead before the day was over.

So she did all that she could do; she prayed for her son—for Johan's life.

Eric kept the phone against his ear well after Appius had hung up.

"I never should have left them," he whispered. "I never should have approached Sookie in the first place." He closed his eyes. "I bring death to everyone I love."

"No!" Bobby yelled out, taking Eric's free hand with his. "You don't! Now—snap the fuck out of your self-hatred mode! Sookie and Johan need you! Right. Now!"

Eric realized that he was breathing erratically, panicking. He took in Bobby's words. His friend was right. Sookie needed him to be calm. Johan needed him to be calm. They needed him to get them out of this, not to make it worse.

"Breathe, Eric," Niall said gently. "Just breathe, son."

Eric took several long steadying breaths before opening his eyes. "Okay," he said. "I'm ready."

And he was ready—to do whatever it took to save his family.

"What did Appius say?" Bobby asked.

"He wants me to come in—alone," Eric reported. "He has a gun pointed at Sookie and Johan," his voice broke a little. "If anyone else goes in there, he'll," his voice cracked, "hurt them."

"Dear God," Niall gasped.

Bobby immediately lifted the phone in his hand to speak. He was on the phone with the hospital's chief of security, Maxwell Lee, who had been the one to call Eric about the threatening phone call that had been received at the nurses' station minutes before. Bobby had stayed on the line with Maxwell as Eric had used Bobby's phone to call Sookie.

"I can confirm that Appius Northman is in the room with Sookie and the baby," Bobby said quickly. "He does have a gun, and he's asked for Eric to go in there—alone. He's threatened to hurt Sookie and the baby if anyone else goes in there."

There was a pause.

Bobby looked at Eric almost reluctantly. "Yes. I believe Appius is capable of hurting them."

There was another pause.

"Okay," Bobby said. "We are forty minutes out."

"Thirty-five," came Mikey's voice from the driver's seat.

Eric closed his eyes. "Thirty-five minutes," he whispered, praying that he would be in time to protect his child and wife. "Please, keep them safe," he said, still praying. The others in the car did nothing to interrupt him; in fact, they were saying prayers of their own.

"I don't give a rat's ass what you say!" Dr. Amy Ludwig said to the head of security. Maxwell Lee was a tall man—a big one too. Even though he was 59 years old, he kept himself in great shape and looked ready, willing, and able to kick anyone's ass. That was one of the reasons why he was so good at his job.

However, there was one person on the hospital's staff that intimidated even him: Dr. Amy Ludwig. Though she was well shy of 5 feet tall, Ludwig was the sharpest individual Maxwell had ever known, both in intellect and in biting wit. He had no doubt that she could give someone a coronary with a mere look—just so that she could revive them and do it again.

He liked her a lot, but he was scared of her all the same.

"Ludwig, you and Indira both need to evacuate with the others," Maxwell pleaded.

"Do you really think I'm going to do that when a maniac has one of my babies in his clutches?" the doctor asked.

"I'm not leaving them either," Indira said stubbornly, nursing a cut on the back of Milos's head. She'd found him unconscious in the supply room near Sookie's room. Her own cheek was swollen from where Franklin had hit her to keep her from running into Johan's hospital room after she'd received the call at the nurses' station.

Maxwell cursed under his breath. "Fine! But stay here; don't go any closer to the Northman room—got it?"

Dr. Ludwig nodded in agreement. "I'm not an idiot," she muttered.

Maxwell took a deep breath as three people got off of the elevator and came toward him. He recognized one as Dan Mason, the police chief of East Hampton. The other two looked like FEDs if he'd ever seen one. Moments later, several other agents also entered via the stairwell, joining members of Maxwell's own security force, which he'd stationed in the hall—after they'd helped to complete the evacuation of the area.

"Hey Max," Dan said, extending his hand. "This is Special Agent in Charge Kate Batanya. And this is Agent William Compton," he introduced.

"What do we have?" Agent Batanya asked.

Clearly she was all about getting to the point. Maxwell liked her immediately.

"About twenty minutes ago, first the nurses' station here and then I received a phone call from a man who didn't identify himself. All that he told me was that Appius Northman had entered into Sookie and Johan Northman's hospital room and that he had a gun. I was warned by the caller to keep everyone out—except for Eric Northman, the child's father. The man indicated that Appius Northman was ready to kill the mother and child and himself if we tried anything."

"You have evacuated the neighboring rooms?" Agent Batanya asked as she looked around.

"Yes—first thing. Luckily, this wing of the neonatal ward contains only larger private rooms, and everyone was quickly moved to the other side of the floor." Maxwell motioned toward a set of glass double doors. "Those are bullet proof."

"The rooms above and below the Northman room?" Agent Batanya asked.

"I've evacuated those, as well as all adjacent rooms on the floors above and below as a precaution," Maxwell informed.

"Good," Agent Batanya stated, obviously impressed by the speed and efficiency of the man's work.

"The one who made the phone call was probably Franklin Mott," Milos said somewhat groggily. Indira had given him smelling salts, and Dr. Ludwig had given him a drug to help to counteract the tranquilizer he'd been given, but he was still a little out of it. "I saw Appius and tried to apprehend him, but I was injected with something from behind. Before I passed out, I saw who did it: Mott."

"Who are you?" Agent Batanya asked.

"Milos Greer. I work as a guard for Eric Northman and his family," Milos responded.

"You're doing a shitty job," Bill growled.

"Compton!" Agent Batanya said with authority. "I told you that if I heard one counterproductive thing from you, you'd be out of here. I understand that you have a personal connection to this family, and I'm letting you observe out of courtesy, but don't test my fucking patience!"

Bill nodded.

"Why are you in Eric Northman's employ?" Agent Batanya asked Milos.

"Because of Eric's father—mostly," Milos answered.

"Have there been previous threats?" Agent Batanya asked.

"Not specific ones, but Appius has tried to hurt Eric in a variety of nonviolent ways, including breaking into his home more than once, installing surveillance equipment to monitor that home, stationing people to follow him or spy on him, and blackmailing him."

"True?" Agent Batanya asked in Bill's direction.

"Yes," Bill said stiffly.

"And that is why you were helping the Northmans?" she asked Bill.

Bill nodded.

"Where the fuck were you?" Milos asked Bill, a little more alertly. "You were supposed to be following Appius from the club today."

Bill glared at Milos. "I got a lead on Mott and trailed him here. I had no idea what Appius was planning."

Having taxed himself by speaking, Milos shook his head wearily and looked about ready to faint, though Indira steadied him in the chair he was sitting in.

"I don't have time for drama," Agent Batanya muttered. "You," she said looking at Bill, "stay out of my way! Got it? You observe only."

Bill nodded.

Agent Batanya quickly spoke into her earpiece and deployed the agents on her team to various places on the floor. Then she looked at Mr. Lee. "The room has a phone?"

Maxwell nodded. "Yes."

Agent Batanya lifted the phone at the nurses' station.

"Dial 9-7-3-8," Indira instructed.

The agent nodded and did just that, keeping her eyes trained on the door of room 738, which was about forty feet from the nurses' station. Four of her agents were moving into place in various places along the hallway.

"Hello," came a shaky female voice.

"Sookie Northman?" Agent Batanya asked.

"Yes."

"Can you ask Appius Northman if he will speak with me?"

"He says he won't," Sookie said.

"That's okay," Agent Batanya said comfortingly.

"He says that he will shoot Johan if Eric doesn't come in here within twenty minutes," Sookie said. "He's making me hang up now," she added before the line went dead.

Agent Batanya dialed the Manhattan field office in order to update them on the situation. Quickly, she explained that she didn't think traditional negotiation tactics would work—since Appius Northman had indicated his willingness to kill himself along with his hostages, which was always a deadly sign in Kate's experience. And any plans to storm the room were fraught with danger for the hostages, one of whom was an infant, which changed the stakes considerably in Kate's mind.

Just then, the elevator opened, and out stepped Eric, flanked by Niall, Bobby, Henry, and Blake. The latter two had left the club while Eric and the others were making further plans and meeting with de Castro to inform him of the true paternity of Freyda's child. Henry and Blake had been planning to go to Niall's estate to pick up Eric and Sookie's belongings and little Ned so that the new parents wouldn't have to worry about it the next day. However, they'd decided to pay Sookie and Johan a short visit before going to Niall's; they'd just arrived at the hospital when Bobby had called them to let them know what was happening.

"You are Eric Northman?" Agent Batanya asked, immediately recognizing the man who strode directly toward the hallway where his son and wife's hospital room was located. Two of her agents stopped him.

"Yes—let me through," Eric said. "I have to get in there."

"Not yet," Agent Batanya said in the kind of tone that brooked no argument.

"He'll hurt them," Eric said with desperation in his voice.

"Mr. Northman," Agent Batanya said more softly, though firmly, "it is my opinion that your father intends to hurt someone no matter what you do."

Eric looked at her with fear in his eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm Kate," she answered. "Special Agent Kate Batanya, and I've been an FBI agent for almost fifteen years. From what Agent Compton and your guard have told me, there is a history of animosity between you and your father?"

Eric nodded.

"Has it ever been violent?" she asked.

"Define violent," Eric said in a whisper.

"Physical," Agent Batanya clarified.

"Once—he nearly choked me. In January," Eric answered.

"You didn't press charges?"

"No."

"What precipitated today's events?" Agent Batanya asked.

"I confronted my father about threats he's made to me," Eric responded. "He thinks I'm out to take his business. He blames me for everything wrong in his life." He sighed. "And I told him I was married and had a son."

"And his first instinct was to come here and hurt them?" Agent Batanya asked, taking in the tortured-looking man in front of her.

"Yes," Eric said simply. "He thinks I'm trying to destroy him, even though I'm not. So he wants to hurt the people I love most. That's what," he paused, "he's always tried to do."

Agent Batanya looked at Eric through narrowed eyes. She was not one to ask a lot of questions. She'd already figured out what she needed to know based on Compton's brief report and the information she'd discerned from those she'd talked to at the hospital.

And what she needed to know was simple: Appius Northman was homicidal and suicidal.

The only question was how to shift the situation so that there were the least possible casualties. Her almost-infallible instincts had already told her that the day would end with at least one body bag. She hoped it was only Appius Northman in a bag.

"Who are these men?" she asked looking at the people who had come in with Eric Northman.

"I'm Niall Brigant. Sookie is a relative of mine," Niall spoke up. "What are you doing to get to her and Johan out of there?"

Agent Batanya sighed. "I have sharpshooters in the building across from the hospital, but the curtains in the room are closed and my people cannot see inside. We know where the two adults are from their heat signatures, but—again—we don't have a shot. I have ten agents and Swat team support stationed in the stairwell and ready to breach the Northman room, but doing so right now would jeopardize the hostages."

She sighed. "I won't lie to you. The situation is grave. I have one man with a gun inside a hospital room with an infant and his mother, and that gunman wants an additional hostage. I have no doubt that Appius Northman is prepared to kill himself based upon the information I have gotten on him. A man like him wouldn't do a thing like this if he wasn't," she added evenly.

Eric took a sharp breath.

"Now—who are the rest of you?" Agent Batanya asked. "I need to clear out anyone that shouldn't be here."

"I'm Blake Walsh, NYPD," Blake said, flashing his badge.

"I'm Bobby Burnham," Bobby said. "I'm Eric's attorney, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm Henry Jiles."

Agent Batanya smiled at him. "You are the reason we now have Franklin Mott in custody?"

Henry nodded. "Yes ma'am. I'm ex-Navy SEAL. I saw Mott trying to exit the building after the alarm went off. I'm afraid I couldn't get out of the way in time when he tried to go past me." He patted his leg. "It's prosthetic, and sometimes my reflexes aren't that fast."

"That would account for the injuries to his face then," Agent Batanya smirked. "He must have tripped over your leg? And—what? Your nerve damage caused your prosthetic to," she paused, "twitch uncontrollably?"

"Yes. I few times," Henry responded with a tiny smirk, though his face held mostly worry for Sookie and Johan.

"I need to get in there," Eric said. "Appius is expecting me."

Just as Eric said those words, his phone rang. Agent Batanya nodded and Eric answered it.

"Yes?" Eric said.

There was a pause.

"I am here, but the FBI agent in charge won't let me pass."

There was another pause.

"I'll tell her."

Eric hung up.

"Appius says that if I'm not in there in five minutes, he's going to shoot Sookie in the leg."

Agent Batanya nodded and then signaled to a man in a suit on the other side of the nurses' station.

"He's going to put a wire on you, Mr. Northman," she said. "I want to hear what is being said in there."

"What if Appius finds out it's there . . . ," Eric started, his concern evident.

"He won't. It's tiny," Agent Batanya assured. "Your father may check you for weapons, but he won't find this device."

Eric nodded and let the agent start his work, putting in a button-sized transmitter behind Eric's belt buckle.

"You know your father well?" Agent Batanya asked. "You know what drives him? What drives his hatred of you?"

"Yes," Eric said softly.

"Good. Then you will know when he reaches his breaking point. If I'm right, there will come a moment when your father is going to try to take a life, probably your wife's—if I'm guessing right. When that time comes, I intend to storm in there and take him down," Agent Batanya said.

"Why not before?" Eric asked shakily.

"Because," the agent explained, "a man like Appius will—if he thinks his plan isn't working—lose control. And then I will lose your entire family, Mr. Northman. My hope is that I lose none of you, but one is better than three."

Eric closed his eyes and trembled a little, before nodding.

"I want you to say, 'no, Father, no,' when you believe Appius is about to act. Do you understand?" Agent Batanya asked.

Eric nodded.

"Your best chance at saving your whole family is to talk him out of there," Agent Batanya said.

"I know," Eric responded.

"I shouldn't even let you go in there," Agent Batanya said.

"But you're going to."

"Yes, I am."

"Because losing one life is better than losing two," Eric said.

"Yes," the agent responded, "especially when one of them is an infant."

Eric nodded and then looked at Bill Compton. "If it comes down to choices, make sure the right ones are made."

Bill narrowed his eyes and nodded, understanding that Eric was offering up his life for his family. It was something Bill was coming to expect from the man. And for a moment—just a moment—he thought about how he could, perhaps, help Eric Northman. But then he thought better of it. His best move would be to somehow "help" Appius to achieve Eric's death.

After all, that would leave Sookie free, and if the child died too, then she would be completely unshackled from Eric—and an heiress to boot, infinitely more attractive than she'd ever been to him in the past.

And she'd been damned attractive before.

Bill looked at the hospital room door as Eric approached it, knocked, and then went inside before closing the door behind him. Who knew? If Bill was lucky—very lucky—he might still get what he wanted from Sookie, and none of it would be his fault! It would all be blamed on Eric's own father!

There was—after all—such a thing as friendly fire.

And—if Bill could somehow be the hero of the day—it would be natural for Sookie to turn to him.

Bill looked at the others in the nurses' station area. He resolved not to push his luck too much, but if an opportunity presented itself to remove his competition, he wasn't going to pass it up either.

Maybe fate would smile upon him for a while—instead of giving everything to Eric Northman.


	25. One Life

Chapter 25: One Life

"One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. But to sacrifice what you are and to live without belief, that is a fate more terrible than dying."

—Joan of Arc

Eric walked slowly into the room and took in the scene before him. Sookie was tied to the chair in the corner of the room and gagged with ripped sheets. Appius was sitting in the rocking chair, holding a sleeping Johan cradled in one arm, even as he held a gun in his other hand.

"Your son sleeps like the dead," Appius said ominously, looking down at the child, though Eric could tell that Appius was also looking at him. "Close the door."

Eric did as he was commanded.

"Take off you jacket," Appius said.

Eric complied.

"Now, toss it on the bed and empty your pants pockets so that I can see. We wouldn't want you to have anything foolish like a gun—now would we?"

Again, Eric did as ordered.

"Now unbutton," Appius intoned. "Let's make sure there's not a bulletproof vest under that shirt."

Eric nodded and unbuttoned his shirt.

"Very well," Appius said once he'd seen Eric's bare chest. "You can button back up."

Eric complied.

"He's been asleep since I got here." Appius chuckled darkly when he was satisfied that Eric carried no weapon and had on no body armor. "I finally got tired of waiting for him to awaken, so I picked him up, but he's still asleep. You were the same as an infant. Once your belly was full, you were out like a light."

"Please," Eric said, automatically taken a step toward Appius.

"Stay where you are, or I will kill both your son and your wife," Appius said casually, as if he were speaking of the weather. He stroked the boy's face with the barrel of the gun.

Eric stopped in his tracks. "I'll do anything," he said breathlessly—desperately, "anything you want. Just don't hurt them."

"I will already be taking what I want from you today, boy," Appius said cruelly. "Your pain is my goal, and I will have it. It will live on after I am gone. It will be my greatest legacy," he added madly.

Eric shook his head. "You don't have to do this. I'll walk away from Northman Publishing completely. It can all be yours. Just don't hurt my family," he said in an agonized tone, looking over at Sookie, whose cheeks were stained by old tears, even as new ones fell.

"Unfortunately," Appius said, "that is impossible. You can thank your grandfather for that. According to that fucking codicil, there is no way for me not to make you CEO."

"Then we pretend," Eric said, grasping at straws. "I'll be CEO in name only. You don't have to pay me. You don't have to see me. I'll take my family and leave New York forever. I'll say that everything here has been a misunderstanding. We won't press charges, and even if the police or the FBI does, we won't testify. You can spin it however you want—a breakdown. Whatever you say, I'll back up your story. Whatever you want, I'll do. Please, think of Nora and Pam and Alexei and Gracie and Appius, Jr. They all love you. Please, Appius, anything you want—anything. I'll do it."

Appius looked at Eric coldly, and the silence between them stretched out to a minute, filling Eric with cold terror.

"Had you done what I wanted already, you wouldn't be in this mess, Eric," Appius said evenly. "You have gone behind my back for months, even marrying without my knowledge. But you didn't stop there. You undermined me with Edgington and Brigant. Hell—you even got Copley, my closest fucking friend for years, to turn on me." He sat forward a little and Johan stirred, causing both Eric and Sookie to hold their breaths.

"You have," Appius continued with a snarl, "threatened to take everything from me."

"No," Eric said, praying to God that his son would stay asleep, even though the infant had begun to struggle against his wrapping. "I swear that's not what I wanted to do. I was just going to run the company," Eric sounded defeated. "I was going to make sure it grew—for Appius Jr. and . . . ," he paused as a tear slipped from his eye.

"And?" Appius asked.

"And I also wanted to make it grow for you," Eric said in a quiet voice. "I wanted you to be pleased with the results of what I had done, even if you hated me. I thought . . . ." He stopped again.

"You thought?"

"I thought it would be something—even if it wasn't your love," Eric finished in a whisper.

"You really are pathetic," Appius said, shaking his head.

"I know," Eric said. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," Appius sighed. "And you will be even sorrier very soon."

Johan was wiggling even more now. Appius spoke with awe as he saw the little boy kicking against his covers. "He really is just like you. You did this. No matter what your mother and I did, we could not keep you covered for long."

The little boy continued to fuss in his grandfather's arms—a stranger's arms—until his blue eyes popped open, and then he began to cry in earnest as if sensing danger. He continued to try to wiggle out of the blanket and out of Appius's arms.

"Come!" Appius ordered. "Take him, but if you try anything, I will kill him. The trigger is already pulled."

Eric nodded. He'd already noticed that the gun was cocked.

Slowly, Eric approached and reached out for his crying child, who had broken his hands out of his blanket and was reaching upward now that his senses recognized that his father was near. Appius let go of the tiny infant as Eric picked him up; Eric backed away a few steps, instinctively turning his body so that he was between Johan and the gun.

For his part, Johan immediately quieted when he felt himself against his father's chest.

"He loves you," Appius said emotionlessly, gesturing with the gun so that Eric knew he was to sit on the bed. Eric did just that, keeping Johan tucked against his body and turned from Appius as much as possible.

"Yes," Eric said.

"It will be your curse to eventually hate him," Appius said with an evil grin.

"What do you mean?" Eric asked, though he was afraid of the answer.

Appius was silent for another minute, his dark eyes drilling into Eric's.

"You have a choice to make, Eric," Appius said, pulling his gaze from the uncanny double stare of his son and grandson. Of course, all he could see was Stella looking at him—through her descendants' eyes. She was judging him; she feared him.

"Choice?" Eric's voice squeaked as he looked at Sookie. Her eyes betrayed her terror and her resolution. They also declared something else that scared him beyond belief: forgiveness. And suddenly he understood that all of the ways Appius had toyed with and hurt him during his life were just child's play compared to what he planned now.

"I kept you," Appius said, "not that I wanted you after I learned of your mother's duplicity. But, for the first five years of your life, I wanted you very much." He sighed as he leveled the gun in Eric's direction—Johan's direction. "It was not just Stella who chose to wait to fight her cancer until after you had been born," he said quietly. "We agreed together. We chose you over her. It was," his voice caught, "the most difficult choice I have ever made. But your mother and I made the decision together. She gave me the strength to do what was necessary. And you—you—were necessary to us." A tear fell from his eye. "Stella was so strong, and I thanked God when she was able to fight back the cancer after you were born—even though I still wonder if it would have stayed away forever if she'd gotten aggressive treatment when we first learned of it. Of course," he sighed, "she couldn't do that without harming you. And she loved you so goddamned much that she would have never done that."

Appius continued in an almost haunted tone, "Still—I never resented you for her cancer, not until she was gone and I knew the truth about her affair." He closed his eyes. "And then all I could think about was that another man's bastard child had kept her from getting the treatment that may have—should have—kept her with me." He opened his eyes when he heard Eric move a little on the bed. "Don't even think about it," Appius said, moving the gun to point at Sookie.

She whimpered.

"I'm not thinking of doing anything," Eric said immediately.

Appius nodded a little. "Good."

The room was silent for a minute.

"I would have stayed in blissful ignorance if the cancer hadn't taken Stella from me," Appius relayed almost wistfully. "I had no idea about her and Peder—none. I wish," he paused, "that I had never known."

The little bit of humanity that had been on Appius's face disappeared as he looked over at Sookie, at whom his gun was still pointed. "Women are not to be trusted, Eric. If I take her from you now, I will be doing you a favor. She will never have the chance to hurt you—to destroy you."

"Please," Eric said as more tears trailed down his face. "Don't."

Appius looked back at Eric. "You're right. It must be your choice—the same choice I had to make so many years ago."

Eric shook his head and cradled his tiny child. "No," he whispered.

"Your son or your wife?" Appius asked. "One of them will die today." He leaned forward. "And you will decide which," he added sinisterly.

"I can't," Eric whimpered.

"Then both will die," Appius assured.

Sookie groaned loudly from the corner, drawing Eric's eyes to hers. She was shaking her head and looking desperately at him and then Johan. Eric already knew her choice. And he already knew his.

He couldn't lose either of them.

"Well?" Appius asked. "I do not have all day. I can't imagine your FBI friends will be patient for long."

Eric gave Sookie a little nod and then looked at Appius. "They will kill you."

"Or I will kill myself first," Appius said evenly. "But—either way—I am done with this life."

Eric let out a desperate sob. "Please! What of the children you do love? What of Appius Jr.?" Eric asked.

Appius chuckled. "You will take care of them. That is the irony in all of this. I wouldn't even be surprised if you found a way to cover all of this up." He laughed evilly. "And you will be forced to take the responsibility for Freyda's child too."

"I'll have the company," Eric tried. "I'll get NP. You don't want me to get it. But if you kill me and not them, I won't be able to touch it!"

Appius shrugged. "You have already taken my company from me," he said aloofly. "I am reconciled to that. And, once I'm dead, I will no longer give a fuck, and that is what I really want—to no longer care. Plus," Appius chuckled darkly, "you'll leave the company to Appius, Jr.—just as I've always wanted. You are too honorable not to."

"Will you let me say goodbye to her—to Sookie?" Eric asked.

"So you have chosen?" Appius asked in return.

Eric nodded. There was never a choice.

Agent Batanya was extremely good at her job. She'd had her first command at age 24. Though the Bureau had pegged her as what they called a "natural profiler," she had shrugged off the lucrative research assignment she'd been offered. She'd been made for the field, able to discern the inner workings of a situation quickly and accurately.

And—in the end—she didn't care about "the book" if she got the results she wanted. Her specialty was hostage negotiations. The Northmans were just lucky she'd pissed off her superiors enough to get her saddled with taking Compton's statement about Warren Daniels and Lorena Krasiki; otherwise, she wouldn't have been in the area when Appius Northman had taken his son's wife and child as hostages. Or—more accurately—as prisoners.

She intuited that Appius's single demand—the presence of his son—would precipitate violence on the part of the obviously unhinged man. But she also figured that not giving him what he wanted would lead to even more bloodshed.

Agent Batanya looked around her as she readied herself. She aimed to be the first one through the door when Eric Northman gave the signal, and she chose people to follow who wouldn't hesitate.

One of the things that always got her into trouble with her superiors was that she worked "too closely" with local law enforcement. However, she often found that they were more useful than the agents assigned to her. Case in point—Compton was about as field ready as a fucking lamp-post. Moreover, she just didn't trust him.

She'd chosen the two SWAT team members that seemed the most competent to follow her into the room.

Also, she had immediately liked Maxwell Lee. Maxwell and his staff were authorized to carry weapons, so he was nearby as well. She had also liked Detective Blake Walsh, and thanks to the local sheriff's department, which—mercifully—didn't adhere to strict procedure, he was right behind Maxwell. Likely, they wouldn't get into the room in time to get a round off before everything was over, but she was glad to have them as part of her immediate team. However, Bill Compton was, sadly, there too—though a bit further back. Her gut told her that something about him was "off." And Kate listened to her intuition about such things, so she was keeping an eye on him. She could tell that Bobby Burnham was too.

She also had a group positioned in the room next door to Mrs. Northman's. They'd placed charges that would blow a hole in the wall between the two rooms, but Kate really didn't want to use that option. There were too many variables with that option.

Batanya sighed from her position near the door. Something about Eric Northman had immediately told her that he could be trusted to bring the situation to a resolution she could live with. And that was why she'd let him walk through that door. She'd already heard enough to put Appius Northman away for years for kidnapping. Now all she needed was Eric's signal.

"You have chosen to save your son," Appius said, nodding with almost approval in his eyes. "That is what I knew you would do."

"I can't let you hurt him," Eric whispered.

"I felt the same way once," Appius said. "It is too bad that you will one day come to resent him."

"I won't," Eric averred.

"It is inevitable," Appius said sadly. "You will not really be resenting him either; that is the worst part. You will be resenting yourself—hating yourself for the fact that you couldn't hold on to her." He motioned toward Sookie. "But a star was never meant to be tethered—after all."

Appius sighed and brushed a tear from his own eye. "Regardless—you will blame yourself, and your son will think that you are blaming him."

With a nod, Eric acknowledged the truth in at least some of Appius's words. He would hate himself if anything happened to Sookie or Johan.

"Can I say goodbye to her?" Eric asked—begged.

Appius shook his head gruffly. "Why should I let you do that?" he asked waving the gun toward Sookie again.

"Because," Eric begged, "you got to say goodbye to my mother. Before your life fell to pieces, you got to tell her goodbye." Eric took a deep breath. "And you like symmetry. You like tragedy."

Appius smiled a little. "You are my son, Eric. If I didn't despise you, I might even be proud of you." He motioned with the gun. "Go ahead. Tell your Pandora goodbye before she takes the world from you."

Very carefully, Eric rose from the bed with Johan. The child was still awake, but was still and quiet—as if studying the chess match going on between the other males in the room. Or—perhaps—he intuited that his father aimed to make a sacrifice, so he was doing all he could to help him.

Eric had managed to wrap Johan back up into his blanket—tightly. He went over to Sookie and bent down before her where she sat.

"May I?" he asked, over his shoulder toward Appius.

"The gag—not the ties," Appius warned.

Eric nodded and used his free hand to remove Sookie's gag.

"I'm sorry," he said in an agonized tone.

"I know," she gasped. "But don't be. It's okay."

"I love you," he said.

"I love you," she wept openly as he leaned in and kissed her.

"I'll always love you," he said to her, fresh tears falling from his eyes as well.

"I know," she returned. "And we will always love you," she whispered. "Always."

He smiled, almost imperceptivity and nodded. And then he yelled the words that would signal Agent Batanya's breach, "No, Father, no!"

In the next moment many things happened at once. The first was that Eric managed to knock over Sookie's chair and to cover her and Johan with his own body.

After that, several shots rang out quickly in the hospital room.

Eric felt a searing pain. And then another. And then a third. Right before he lost consciousness, he saw a drop of blood flow from the side of Sookie's head.

He'd failed. She'd been hit too.

"I have one fatality, two critically injured, and at least two others have been hit too!" Agent Batanya yelled into her earpiece less than a minute later. She sighed deeply as she looked at the bodies strewn out on the floor.

One was obviously past saving.

The annoying little doctor was already in the room—working on Eric Northman, trying to keep him alive by administering CPR. Given the amount of blood flowing from his body from what looked to be multiple gun-shot wounds—including one in the chest and one in the head—Agent Batanya figured it was a lost cause.

She was sad about that.

Other doctors and nurses were working on the others who had been hit.

"No," she said into the earpiece, answering the question of her superior. "The infant is fine. And the suspect is down. I'll call you back when I know more."


	26. Pure Heart

Chapter 26: Pure Heart

"My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure."

—Alfred Lord Tennyson

The first thing Eric discerned in his hazy foray into consciousness was a pressure on his chest; it wasn't uncomfortable or unwelcome. It was just a slight weight on his body. And it was one with which he was familiar.

He tried to say her name—tried to confirm that it was her on his body. But he couldn't speak. Something was in his way.

Next, he tried to open his eyes, but those wouldn't work yet either. They too had a weight on them. He found that he could hear, however. There was a beeping noise—a consistent one.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

He inhaled. It was difficult because he faced an obstruction there too, but he managed to make out something. He would have smiled if he could. It was the lavender of Sookie's shampoo.

He tried to move, empowering his toes to twitch. Check. They twitched. Next it was his fingers. Check. There was something against them—something soft. Sookie's hand?

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

He tried to say her name again, but again he was stopped.

He went through his senses. Smell and touch. Check. Hearing. Check. Seeing. Not yet since his eyes wouldn't open for him. What was the other sense? Tasting. He moved his tongue. Plastic? A firmness. A tube?

After he'd gathered his information, he tried to puzzle out his situation using his groggy brain. He was in a hospital bed; of that he was certain. The beeping was a machine monitoring his heart. The taste was a plastic tube in his mouth, likely helping him breathe. He could move; he was wasn't paralyzed.

He felt.

He felt her hand on his. He felt her head against his chest.

He was able to smell her.

She was alive. Or he was in heaven with her. Those were the only two possibilities.

He tried to open his eyes again, and again it was as if a weight had hold of each of them. He tried speaking her name again, but the only sound her heard was a cry: Johan.

Eric wanted to yell out with joy, but he couldn't. Johan was alive.

"Okay baby," came Sookie's tired voice as she stirred beside him. Eric felt her warmth disappear from his body. He hated that, but he understood that she was going to their son.

He tried to open his eyes again, but the weight was too much. The effort was too much. And then his mind went quiet again.

Sookie had fed Johan and then had rocked him for almost an hour, but he was still restless.

"You know there's only one thing that will calm him down," Henry said from across the room. Since the incident with Appius, he and Bobby rotated shifts, trusting no one else with Sookie, Johan, and Eric's safety. And now the threat was very real again; the ballistic report had told them that there was still one more threat at large.

Luckily for Henry, Rasul and Trey were more than capable of holding down the fort at Carmichael Tower; plus, he'd had a lot of saved up vacation time. He couldn't think of a better reason to use it.

A repentant Milos, along with his new partner—the newly hired Miranda—stood outside the door pretty much 24-7, but Henry and Bobby were no longer willing to leave anything to chance, so they stayed in the room with Sookie, Johan, and Eric.

Sookie smiled at her friend. "I know, but I hate to—uh—use Eric like that."

Henry chuckled. "You and I both know that Eric wouldn't mind. He'd love it." He paused and his voice softened. "If Eric's aware at all, he loves having you and Johan near, Sook. I'm sure of it."

Sookie nodded and stood up with her now seven-week-old son. Eric had missed a month of Johan's life—at least on a conscious level—but she and the infant both counted on him all the same.

"Help me?" she asked Henry.

"Sure," Henry smiled, taking Johan in his arms as Sookie climbed up into the extra wide and extremely comfortable hospital bed with Eric. Niall had ordered it especially for them. Henry handed the squirming child to his mother, who carefully put him onto Eric's chest—making sure to keep him off of the thick bandage hiding one of her husband's wounds. As if knowing that his father had been hurt, the infant didn't wiggle or move too much. And within two minutes, he was asleep.

Sookie smiled sleepily at Henry. They both knew that lying on Eric's chest was the only way that Sookie slept—just as it was the only way that Johan slept peacefully.

"It's okay, Sook," Henry said. "I'll be right here. Go ahead and get some rest."

Sookie nodded and scooted closer to Eric's side. She lay a hand on Johan's back, and enjoyed listening to his gentle snore for a couple of minutes before drifting off too.

Eric felt warmth the next time he became aware of himself. Again, he felt pressure. This time, however, it was different; it was coming from two sources. There was a light pressure on his chest—almost so light that he didn't feel it, but there was something familiar about the weight. And then there was a heavier pressure at his shoulder.

He activated the senses that he already knew worked. Again, he smelled Sookie's shampoo, but there was something equally as comforting—the unique scent that was his child's. Eric somehow knew that the slight pressure on his chest was his sleeping son, and he ached to bring his hand up to touch him—to confirm that he was well.

He felt his fingers move. One of his hands was trapped in a warmth that could only originate from his wife, but his other hand was free—though it tingled as if waking up from numbness. He figured that his whole being was trying to do the same. He concentrated all of his strength on moving his hand, bringing it up to touch his sleeping child.

He needed to touch his child—needed to make sure Johan was real.

Alive.

Success!

He moved his hand an inch!

And then another!

He rested.

Another inch! Another!

And then there was something soft—Johan's little foot. Eric moved his fingers up until they settled on his son's back. Another hand was there too—Sookie's. He put his hand over hers.

The limit of his strength had been met, and he slept again.

"He moved his hand," Henry said in an excited whisper.

"Is he going to wake up?" Bobby asked.

"If you recall," Dr. Ludwig intoned, "I have been telling you for a month now that he was going to wake up. It was just a matter of time."

"So—he's going to be okay?" Bobby asked, the uncertainty, worry, and hope all clear in his voice.

"I think so," Dr. Ludwig said with a smile on her lips.

"And what do you think?" Henry asked in the direction of Dr. Thomas Cooper, who had been the one to operate on Eric—four times during the last month.

"I think he's already done better than I ever thought he would," the surgeon said honestly.

When Thomas Cooper had been called from the operating room a month before to take care of a gunshot victim, he'd been annoyed that his surgery had been interrupted. Still—he'd been able to pass along the closing and the post-op to an intern and had rushed to the sixth floor, where there had been a hostage situation. He'd come into the room to find Dr. Amy Ludwig, the only person whom he'd ever met who was smarter than he was, working to revive a man who had been shot five times.

A blond woman—holding a tiny infant and with a slight bullet wound of her own—was looking on as Ludwig worked. Her eyes had been wide open, watching as Ludwig and a nurse tried to control the bleeding of the man. However, her lips had been moving, and Thomas had recognized that she was praying.

He'd paid very little attention to the two dead men he'd passed on his way into the room, even though he'd known one of them pretty well. Maxwell Lee had been an excellent chief of security, but Thomas knew when it was too late to save someone, and the bullet wound between Maxwell's eyes indicated that "too late" had been about five minutes before. An older Caucasian man also stared toward the ceiling—unseeing. He, too, was dead.

But the man Ludwig had been working on was fighting, despite all his wounds.

Thomas had immediately assessed those injuries. The worst two were gunshots to the head and the chest. But the bullet wedged into Eric's chest had clipped Eric's aorta, so it had to be dealt with first. Almost a week later, after a medically induced coma had allowed the swelling around the bullet in Eric's brain to go down a little, Thomas had been able to remove that one too. Luckily, it had lodged shallowly, about the "best" place a bullet could be in a brain, though it had come dangerously close to hitting the part of Northman's brain which controlled his memory.

The other three shots had been nasty too. One had hit Eric's spleen, which had to be removed. Ironically, the closest Eric had come to dying on the operating table had been when his spleen had ruptured, even as Thomas had been working on his aorta. However, he'd been able to guide the surgeon assisting him to perform an emergency spleen removal, even as he'd finished up repairing the aorta.

But it had been touch and go.

Another bullet had clipped Eric's femoral artery, which had required yet another surgery. The fifth bullet had gone through the side of his neck and then had grazed his wife's head. An inch in any direction, and any one of the bullets could have killed Eric Northman, but none of them had.

Dr. Ludwig had proclaimed Eric Northman to be "fighter" enough to survive when Thomas had first come into the room to start working on him. Thomas had been skeptical at first, but now he tended to agree with his diminutive colleague.

For the last weeks, Dr. Cooper had chosen to continue to keep Eric in a coma so that the trauma to his body—especially after his brain surgery—would have a chance to heal.

"So—he's waking up?" Bobby asked with a cautious smile.

"It looks like it," Dr. Cooper returned with a smile of his own. He loved giving good news. "I'd figured that it would take a little longer for the medicine in Eric's system to run its course, but it looks like he's impatient. And, before you ask," he said, anticipating Bobby's next question, "all of his wounds are stable."

"I told you so," Dr. Ludwig pronounced triumphantly, though quietly, since Sookie and Johan were still sleeping soundly, nestled against Eric's body.

In truth, Amy Ludwig felt downright elated—and vindicated! She didn't know much, but she knew goddamned well that the presence of Sookie and Johan had saved Eric Northman's life, just as much as Thomas Cooper's considerable expertise had. Hell—who was she kidding—Sookie and Johan had mattered more!

Magic—had mattered more!

"Eric," Bobby whispered desperately into his friend's ear, obviously trying not to wake up Sookie and Johan. "Wake. The. Fuck. Up."

Eric's eyes popped open. At first they were uncertain and unfocused. Then they settled on Bobby accusingly. He tried to speak, but the plastic tube prevented it. He struggled against it a little.

Dr. Cooper approached Eric. "Hello, I'm Thomas," the doctor said in a whisper. For the first time in his career, he was trying not to awaken an infant and a woman lain out on top of a patient.

Thomas sighed, but smiled all the same.

Why he'd let Ludwig talk him into allowing Sookie and the child to basically move into Eric's hospital room and have their run of it was beyond him. Of course, even if he'd been able to deny Ludwig, there would have been no denying Niall Brigant. And Thomas had to admit that Eric had survived injuries that most people wouldn't have, and letting the people he was fighting for stay with him was probably more therapeutic than any of the medicines in his IV.

Eric gave the doctor a little nod.

"Eric?" Sookie voiced tentatively, almost as if in her sleep. She sat up carefully, her eyes locked into his. "Eric," she said again, this time smiling through watery eyes.

Again, he tried to speak, but he was fighting a losing battle as he fought the tube in his mouth.

"Could you move the baby for a minute, Sookie?" Thomas asked gently.

Eric shook his head. He didn't want Johan or Sookie to move.

"Just while I examine you," Thomas assured. "I'd like to get these tubes out of you so that you can speak, but I need to check a couple of things first."

Eric nodded as Sookie leaned in to kiss his cheek. His eyes followed her movements as she picked up Johan. He gasped a little at the size of his son, who was wiggling and frowning at the disturbance to his slumber. Fussily, Johan let out a little cry and opened his eyes, taking in his mother before settling his gaze onto a pair of eyes exactly like his own.

A tear fell from Eric's eye, and his throat burned as he looked at his family. He'd thought he was going to die. He'd feared more that they would die.

"If you blow out," Thomas said after a few minutes, "I can remove the tube that is keeping you from speaking."

Eric looked at the doctor and nodded in understanding. He wanted to speak, after all. He needed to say his beloved's name.

"I'll count to three," Thomas said, "and then you blow."

Eric nodded again.

"One. Two. Three."

Though weak, Eric exhaled for all he was worth; he felt the tube slipping from his throat. The sensation was good and bad all at once.

"Sookie," he croaked out as soon as the plastic was gone. His voice cracked, and it was painful to speak, but he couldn't stop himself. "You okay?" he asked, looking at her head. The last time he'd seen her, there had been blood in her beautiful golden hair.

She touched her forehead where there was a small bandage. "I only got nicked by a bullet. You pulled me down in time, Eric. You saved me. You saved Johan."

He still looked concerned.

She smoothed her hand over his cheek. "I had to get only five stitches, Eric," she said softly. "I hardly felt it." She smiled a little. That was the truth. Eric had been in surgery when Indira had sewn her up, and her worry had covered up any pain she might have felt.

Eric nodded, even as Dr. Ludwig thrust a straw to his lips. He looked up at her. She'd obviously pulled a stepping stool out from under the bed.

"Drink this," Dr. Ludwig said insistently. "It'll make your throat feel better. You've had a tube in it for almost a month," she added testily.

"A month?" Eric asked.

"Don't talk!" Dr. Ludwig ordered. "Drink!"

"Drink, Eric," Sookie said softly.

Eric nodded and did what he was told as he moved his eyes back over to his son.

"Mr. Northman," Dr. Cooper started.

"Eric," Sookie corrected, rocking Johan in her arms a little as he began to reach for his father.

Thomas smiled. "I hope it's okay if I call you Eric. Your wife insisted we all be on a first name basis."

Sookie smiled down at her husband. "Thomas saved your life four times," she said reaching down to squeeze Eric's hand. "We like him."

Eric nodded and looked up at the doctor gratefully. "Thanks," he choked out after Dr. Ludwig removed the straw.

"I would have worked on you myself," Dr. Ludwig said in her usual sarcastic tone, "but you know I prefer patients of a smaller variety." She winked.

"Thanks, Amy," Eric said.

"Drink," the diminutive doctor ordered again, though a little smile played on her lips.

Eric looked up at Dr. Cooper, his eyes begging for the physician to explain what had happened.

Thomas had seen that look before. They were eyes of confusion, but gratefulness. "You were shot five times, Eric," he said, trying to break the news gently. "And if I may say so, you picked some bad places to be shot."

"We're all still pissed at you for that," Bobby said, smiling through tears.

Eric looked over at his friend for the first time. Bobby's arm was in a sling.

"Bobby?" Eric croaked, fighting against taking another drink.

Bobby looked down toward his left shoulder. "Ah—this thing? It's not bad. I just got one in the shoulder. And you know why that is?"

Eric's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I'll tell you," Bobby said with a smirk. "It's because I know how to get shot without it hitting my fucking vital organs!"

"You okay?" Eric asked.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah."

"Everyone else?" Eric asked. "Okay?"

"Drink," Dr. Ludwig said.

Eric shook his head, but then took a sip to appease everyone.

"Blake was hit," Henry said.

Eric looked at him with concern.

"He took a kidney shot, but they were able to patch him up," Henry assured. "He's due to start work again next week. Niall and your mormor have been fussing over him at their house because your—uh," he paused.

"Mormor was banned from the hospital—well almost banned," Sookie said. "She—uh—transferred her care onto Blake."

"Why banned?" Eric asked shakily.

"Don't be concerned," Sookie said, "but Elsa fainted. She was just tired and a little dehydrated, but after that, her doctor said that she could be here only one hour a day."

"That doctor would be me," Thomas said with a smirk.

"She's okay?" Eric asked.

"Yeah," Thomas supplied. "I've been keeping an eye on her."

"Much to Niall's chagrin," Bobby chuckled.

Thomas shifted uncomfortably. "Your grandmother likes to ruffle my hair—literally. And," he sighed and paused, "she pinches my butt on occasion. She says I remind her of an actor she once knew."

Eric smiled a little. "She does like actors." His face grew grave as he looked back at Henry. "Sorry about Blake."

Henry stepped forward. "You and Sookie are family, Eric. Blake feels the same way I do."

Eric coughed a little and nodded. "Anyone else get hurt?" he croaked out.

Bobby sighed and looked at Sookie. Eric followed his eyes to his wife.

"The chief of security at the hospital, Maxwell Lee, was shot in the head. He died immediately," Bobby said.

"Fuck," Eric sighed, looking anguished.

"Bill was also shot," Henry said with a sneer, "but only in the arm. It was superficial."

"Appius had twelve bullets total," Bobby said. He'd shot all of them before he fell. Mott had gotten him a bullet-proof vest, so it took a bullet in the head to take him down."

"Is he dead?" Eric asked, looking at Sookie.

"Yes," she said, "he's gone."


	27. Filling in the Gaps

Chapter 27: Filling in the Gaps

Eric closed his eyes and fought against the tear that was threatening to fall. Appius had been prepared to kill Sookie, and he wanted to shed no tears for that bastard. But—in the end—he couldn't help it. One tear fell. But that would be the last he would shed for Appius Northman.

When Eric opened his eyes again, everyone in the room was looking at him with concern.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked, his voice raw from pain and emotion.

Bobby was the one who answered. "Once you said the signal words, Agent Batanya led an assault into the room." He took a deep breath. "You were already down when we got in there, covering Sookie and Johan."

Eric heard a little sob from Sookie and reached out for her. She was back in the bed next to him in the next instant, her head against his shoulder and their child cuddled close to them both. Dr. Ludwig gave Eric a little smile and then backed away from the family to give them some room.

"Go on," Eric said, once his wife and child were settled against his body. Truth be told, he'd needed the contact with them as much as they had wanted to be close to him.

Bobby sighed. "The ballistic report indicates that Appius shot you four times."

Dr. Cooper picked things up from there. "One bullet from your father's gun lodged into your occipital lobe. Luckily, that bullet went through the baby's crib first, or the impact would have been greater. After the swelling went down, I was able to remove it, but we had to keep you into a medically induced coma for a while waiting for that to happen. And then we had to keep you in one as you recovered from the surgery."

Eric nodded, squeezing Sookie a little tighter. He could only imagine how difficult that had been for her.

Thomas went on. "Another bullet hit you in the spleen, and we had to remove that organ when it ruptured. Another bullet barely nicked your femoral artery, but we patched that one up during your second surgery. You also took a bullet to the neck, but, luckily it didn't hit your spinal cord."

"You said I was hit five times," Eric croaked.

Sookie let out another little sob.

Bobby picked up the story. "The fifth bullet hit you in the chest, grazing your aorta. A half an inch lower and you wouldn't be here," he said grimly. "Luckily, Compton missed his mark."

"Compton?" Eric asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Bobby sighed. "It seems that he tried to take advantage of the situation by getting rid of the competition."

"Where is he?" Eric bit out.

Sookie tightened her hold on him and trembled a little. Meanwhile, Johan fisted his little hand into Eric's hospital gown—as if holding onto his father for dear life.

"Appius was firing like a madman, first at you, and then at all of us as we went into the room," Bobby reported. "He hit two agents, though luckily he aimed at their chests, so their bulletproof vests protected them. However, both of them went down; it was in getting them out of harm's way that Maxwell Lee and I got hit. Agent Batanya and Blake both put bullets into Appius, and Compton claimed that he had too—though further investigation proved that the bullet from his gun wedged into Appius's vest.

"No one knew until much later that Compton had shot you. For about a week, he acted like the hero of the situation," Bobby scoffed, "until it was found that the slug pulled from your chest was from a different gun than the one Appius used. In fact, the ballistics report indicated that that bullet didn't come from any of the guns that had been reportedly fired. Agent Batanya immediately speculated that Compton had used two weapons that day—one to try to establish himself as a hero to Sookie and the second to try to take you out. That second gun was untraceable, but—clearly—Compton had figured that Agent Batanya would just assume that the shots at Eric had all come from Appius's gun. God knows he fired more than five shorts in your direction," Bobby said, his voice becoming gritty with emotion.

Henry carried on for his friend. "Recognizing that Agent Batanya was a helluva lot more thorough than he'd given her credit for being—and probably sensing that she was onto him—Compton took off before Batanya could prove anything. We think he hooked up with Lorena along the way." He paused. "Agent Batanya is hunting for them both."

Eric nodded. "What else can you tell me?"

"Nothing right now," Dr. Cooper said firmly, though he was looking down at Eric compassionately. "I think you've had enough for now. There will be plenty of time to know the rest later, but right now, you need to rest."

Sookie looked up at him Eric. "Please—do what he says. Okay?" she whispered.

Eric nodded. "They stay," he croaked out as he looked at his wife and child.

Dr. Cooper chuckled. "They haven't left in a month. I know better than to try to make them go now."

Eric smiled a little and kissed the blond head of his wife. He let himself relax as he felt her body curling against him. He raised his hand to his child's back and rested it there, enjoying the feeling of having his family safe and whole.

He vowed to keep them that way, even if he had to hunt down and kill Bill Compton himself.

Bill cried out as his orgasm washed over him. He pumped into Lorena again and again until he was spent, trying—as always—to picture Sookie as he did so. Lorena was none the wiser, but she was needed—at least for the moment.

"Fuck that was good," came Lorena's voice, ruining the moment for him.

Bill pulled out of her. "I'll be in the shower," he said, getting up from the bed, even though he was still panting from exertion.

Lorena spoke sarcastically. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were anxious to get away from me," she smirked.

He looked down at the sprawled-out brunette. He was.

"Of course not," he lied. "It's hot as hell here, and you know how I am."

"Yes," she practically purred. "I do know." She winked. "Just don't use up all the cold water."

He managed to smile back at her as he turned and went into the bathroom.

"I'll go for food while you're in there," Lorena yelled after him. "Any requests?"

Bill turned back. "No—just not that thing with the fish again."

Lorena nodded and grabbed her dress from the floor.

Bill went into the bathroom and turned the water on. He didn't even bother to turn the hot water on at all. Not only would it—at best—produce only lukewarm water, but also he hadn't been lying when he'd said that it was fucking hot!

He stepped under the water and sighed.

"Fucking Alice Springs," he muttered.

He and Lorena had been on the run for more than two weeks, ever since it had become clear that Agent Batanya suspected that he'd been the one to fire the bullet into Eric's chest. He and Lorena had found themselves in Alice Springs, Australia—literally in the middle of fucking nowhere. And it was as hot as hell; however, Lorena had a contact in Alice Springs, and they needed to lay low for a while. They also needed new identities—again. And that took time.

At first, things had gone very well after the incident at the hospital—except for the fact that Eric Northman had been proclaimed the fucking hero! Bill sighed. He had to give it to the man. He had—by all accounts—saved Sookie's life and the child's life, though Bill was a little regretful about the latter.

Still, Bill would have been willing to take on the kid for Sookie's sake. However, Northman just wouldn't die—not even with five bullet wounds!

Bill shook his head. For about a minute, Sookie and the brat's hospital room had been chaotic—a war zone. Agent Batanya had been the first one to go in; by the time she began engaging Appius, there had already been quite a few gun shots—the ones Appius had fired at Eric.

Appius Northman had proven himself to be almost as resilient as his son, however—not surprising given the fact that it was later found out that he was wearing a bulletproof vest supplied by Franklin Mott.

At first, Agent Batanya had fired a round at Appius's chest and another into his lower gut, but the deranged man had kept firing. And Blake Walsh had added another bullet to his throat. Others had shot at Appius too. By the time he went down, however, Appius had put four bullets into Eric, one into Bobby Burnham, one into Maxwell Lee, and one into Blake Walsh. And he'd shot two agents in their vests. One of the bullets that Appius had sent into Eric had gone through his neck and nicked Sookie's head. Thankfully, she hadn't been hurt too bad.

Appius had also shot a bullet that had gone through Bill's upper arm. Though the wound had been little more than superficial, it had sent him reeling backwards and then down, but had also given Bill the perfect opportunity to trade out his weapons unnoticed. He'd already shot Eric by then, but with his FBI-provided service weapon, he was able to get to his feet and shoot at Appius.

Bill glanced down at his quickly-healing wound. He'd apply a new bandage after his shower, but it was now little more than a scar. He smiled. Regardless of its not being serious, his wound had provided him with the ideal opportunity to appear as a hero to Sookie. It had been like a little Purple Heart for him. And—best of all—it had appeared as if he'd continued fighting even after he'd received the wound! Indeed, Sookie had been grateful to everyone who had helped to take down Appius; however, Bill was certain that the hug he'd gotten from her was longer than those she'd given to others.

In the end, Appius's autopsy showed that he had four bullets in him. Bill had been able to claim one of them, though—sadly—it hadn't been a kill shot.

Even sadder, however, was that he'd not killed Eric Northman. The bullet Bill had sent into Eric's chest edged through his aorta. But it hadn't been enough.

Bill sighed. Any other agent in charge would have just assumed that all of Eric's wounds had been made by Appius. But Kate Batanya had proven to be anything but an average agent. No—she'd had to become a nuisance by insisting that the mangled bullet from Eric's chest get tested, despite that fact that it was the same fucking caliber as the bullets from Appius's weapon! And then she had to start analyzing every fucking inch of that hospital room, even though the obvious culprit—Appius Northman—was already dead.

As soon as Bill overheard the phrase "the angle of entry doesn't make sense," from one of the investigators Batanya had working on the case, he knew that his days as a free man were likely over, so he'd prepared to run.

"Bitch," Bill uttered under his breath. Because of Batanya, all of his fucking plans had been ruined! But he was determined to make her pay—even if it took him a while to find the fucking opportunity.

He shook his head.

Luckily, Lorena had still had some reliable contacts at the Bureau, mostly men she'd fucked or had blackmail material on, and it had been one of them who had tipped her off that Bill was about to be arrested for the attempted murder of Eric Northman. When she'd contacted him, he was already packing. But she was able to offer him something he didn't have—a fake identity that would help him get out of the United States.

But she'd had a condition: she insisted that she leave with him. She told Bill that she was done at the Bureau and probably about to be arrested herself—given her shady involvement with Appius Northman. Moreover, she'd been worried that it would be discovered that she'd been accepting bribes for years.

For self-preservation, Bill had hooked up with his old flame, pretending to be contrite and grateful to her. But he was only biding his time—waiting for the opportunity to right wrongs, to remake things as they should have been all along.

He grabbed the soap and began to wash his body, wishing that it was Sookie who was washing him. He closed his eyes and took his cock into his hand. Fucking Lorena had been pleasant, but it hadn't been what he'd wanted. He imagined Sookie under him, noiselessly taking him in as she'd done when they were together.

She'd been so pure and innocent, holding back in seeking her own enjoyment in order to make sure that Bill had his. Lorena had never done that—would never do that.

No—Sookie was the only woman he'd ever had who welcomed his attentions without degrading herself with loud moans and wanton behavior. And she had been easily guided too. The few times she'd shown an interest in oral sex, it had been for Bill's enjoyment only. And he had been able to school her to reform her behavior—to help her to understand that giving blow jobs just wasn't something befitting a lady. Yes—she'd been so compliant to his wishes.

So easily pliable.

So grateful for all that he would give her.

So appropriate.

Just like his father had taught him a woman should be.

Lorena had fucked everything up.

Bill moved his hand faster up and down his cock as he remembered Sookie's very tight warmth and her meek, gentle eyes.

She'd been perfect.

Bill grunted as his release sputtered onto the wall of the shower. He opened his eyes and smiled.

"You'll have her again," he whispered to himself with confidence.

Oh—he knew that he'd likely have to break Sookie of the more annoying habits that she'd obviously developed because of Northman. However, he was certain that she could be guided.

All Bill had to do was wait for the right opportunity.

He'd simply finish the job with Northman—making sure that his involvement couldn't be proven.

Then, he'd remove Agent Batanya from the equation.

Truth be told, the bullet to Eric's chest was from an untraceable weapon that Bill had already disposed of in the Hudson River. It wouldn't be found. And—without Batanya leading the witch-hunt against him—it would be easy for Bill to convince Sookie that he was innocent.

Indeed—after Eric was dead—Sookie would be distraught and extremely pliable.

Yes. Bill would just have to be patient and plan carefully. He smiled smugly as he finished his shower. Unbeknownst to Lorena, he already had an ally who was chomping at the bit to help him secure Sookie again.


	28. In Good Conscience

Chapter 28: In Good Conscience

"A good conscience is a continual Christmas."

—Benjamin Franklin

DECEMBER 25, 2013 (TWO MONTHS AFTER THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER)

"You okay?" Sookie asked softly, threading her fingers into his.

Eric nodded but said nothing. His face was a little pale.

"Eric, have you lost the ability to speak?" she asked with a slight grin, though her eyes held concern.

"Maybe," he chuckled, leaning over to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I did remember to tell you that you look beautiful—right?"

"Yes—that you remembered to do," she said, her smile reaching her eyes now.

"You do look beautiful, Sookie," he whispered as he gave her another kiss, this time closer to her ear.

She looked down at her dress. She'd chosen something red—because of the holiday—and flattering. The shape and material of the dress were very forgiving of the ten pounds she still wanted to lose in order to get back to the size she'd been the previous January. She had already lost a lot of the weight she'd gained with Johan—thanks to swimming and working out almost every day. Eric, too, was working hard to get back into shape after spending more than a month in a hospital bed. A physical therapist came to their home several times a week, and—in the last month—Eric had regained much of the strength he'd lost.

"Would it make you feel better to know that I'm nervous too?" Sookie asked.

"No," Eric smiled a little.

He put his arm around her, and she sank against his body in the back of Niall's limo. Niall and Mormor had come to Manhattan for the holiday and were staying with Claudine; however, Eric had wanted them along for the "family meeting"/Christmas dinner that was going to be taking place—ironically enough—at the Northman mansion. It would be the first time that Sookie met Alexei, Gracie, and AJ. It was also the first time that the whole "family" would be together since Appius's death.

As `expected, the scandal that had rocketed through the gossip columns and New York high society following the shootings at the hospital had yet to die down. When it was found out by the press that one of the wealthiest men in the United States had shot his son multiple times, the reporters were like sharks in the water.

And so was Freyda de Castro. Every day, she had tried to see Eric, claiming that she had every right to see the father of her child and pretending to be the "victim" in front of the Press that had gathered outside of the hospital. And she milked that role for all it was worth, speaking to the gathered reporters every day—no matter how many times her father tried to stop her.

Thanks to Agent Batanya, not many details about what had happened—and why—were released to the media. But the reporters still dug for kernels of information—especially when Michelle Stackhouse showed up outside of the hospital five days after the shooting. Michelle gave interviews to anyone who would listen to her. And—although the reporters had hesitated to listen to the ranting woman who claimed that her daughter was involved with Eric Northman—they soon verified that Sookie and Eric were, indeed, married. And then the news broke that Eric and Sookie had had a child. After that, it hadn't taken the Press long to circulate the story that Appius had been trying to kill Sookie and the infant—as well as Eric.

The day after that news had broken, Michelle and Jason had appeared on a gossip program with Freyda de Castro. Michelle basically called her daughter a whore and claimed that she'd seduced Eric, stealing him from the woman who truly loved him, Freyda. The next day, Freyda had tried to sneak into the hospital—this time with a knife. She was "detained," but—somehow—Sookie came out looking like the one to blame since she wouldn't allow Freyda to visit her "beloved Eric." While in his coma, Eric was also spun in a negative light; after all, he'd been engaged to one woman, Isabel Edgington; married and had a child with another, the heiress Sookie Stackhouse (or Brigant, depending on which rag carried the story); and then impregnated a third, Freyda de Castro.

He was painted as the worst kind of charlatan where women were concerned.

The Press were particularly unkind to Sookie, however, especially once Michelle gave an "exclusive interview" to the New York Post's Page Six. In it, she speculated that Sookie had likely slept with Appius as well as Eric. She questioned the paternity of Sookie's child. She also said that Appius and Eric had both been the victims of Sookie's "black widow ways." She speculated that Eric's breakdown had been because of Sookie and that the two Northman men had likely fought over her. In the end, Michelle had managed to blame Sookie completely for Appius's homicidal rampage and his death. She also blamed Sookie for Eric's being injured and for Freyda's "pain and suffering."

After that interview, Arlene, Maudette, and Dawn had all tried to get their own fifteen minutes of fame by telling reporters all they knew about Sookie and her "strange ways." They also made up stories about witnessing Sookie in compromising situations with both Eric and Appius in her private office, which had been given to her so that her clandestine affairs with both Northman men could be hidden. That was also when the story leaked that an FBI agent, William Compton, was also implicated in Eric's shooting. It didn't take Michelle long to tell reporters that Bill and Sookie had been involved. And this information led to the further vilification of Sookie by the press.

Though Sookie had remained pretty insulated from the so-called "news," some had filtered through to her, even in the cocoon of Eric's hospital room, which Dr. Ludwig had managed like a drill instructor. The diminutive doctor had hand-picked all of Eric's nurses as well as his physical therapist. And no one was allowed in the room unless he or she was on Ludwig's list.

At the end of Eric's third week in a coma, Michelle Stackhouse's "tell-all book" was released, thanks to Andre and Nora pushing it through without Pam's knowledge. After that, Pam had been furious. Nora insisted that she was only hoping to keep the scandal pointed away from Appius; the Press had begun depicting him as a victim of Sookie's manipulation, and—despite the fact that he'd shot his own son multiple times—sympathy had begun to swell for him.

Pam threatened to leave NP and to tell the Press everything she knew about Appius if Andre wasn't fired right away. And given the fact that Pam had basically been keeping NP on its feet since Appius was dead and Eric was out of commission, Nora had been forced to relent. She'd even had Michelle's book recalled from the shelves, though the damage had already been done, and Michelle had started another circuit through the morning talk shows.

At that point, Niall and Elsa had had enough; they'd held back for a while, mostly because they were focusing on Eric and Sookie and didn't want to prolong the scandal by fueling it. However, when the matriarch and patriarch decided to act, they literally lit the news on fire! They went on offensive, and together they were an incredible force. Michelle and Jason Stackhouse were slapped with libel suits—as was NP for publishing Michelle's "tell-all" book. And by the end of a few interviews of their own, Niall and Elsa had convinced audiences that Michelle Stackhouse and Appius Northman were both abusive parents.

After that, at Niall's request, Agent Batanya had given a press conference, ostensibly to update people on the case. However, what she really did was to paint a fuller picture of what had happened the day of the shooting. She indicated that Sookie and Johan had been held hostage by Appius. She also made clear that Eric had risked his life to save his beloved wife and tiny premature child—that he'd pushed a bound Sookie out of the way and covered her and his son with his own body as he was shot repeatedly by Appius. By the end of her question and answer session, Agent Batanya had made sure that the villain of the story could no longer be questioned.

Stan Davis had tried one more time to make Appius a sympathetic figure in an interview he gave to one of New York's more respected morning programs. While he repudiated Appius's actions, he painted Appius as a man who'd been hurt horribly by the infidelity of his first wife. A brief scandal regarding Stella ensued, but Bobby bit back by leaking all the information he'd gathered about Appius's own extra-marital activities—including emails indicating the real paternity of Freyda's child.

Even as the scandal had raged on, Bobby and Mr. Cataliades filed an injunction to hold the official reading of Appius's Will until after Eric woke up and had had a chance to recuperate. Appius had—as could be expected—omitted Eric from his Will, but John Northman's codicil prevented certain elements of Appius's Will from being legal. Plus, there was the contract between Eric and Appius to consider.

The legalities of the situation had been a nightmare to untangle, even after Eric woke up. Andre, Stan Davis, and the Faeman siblings were still trying to keep Eric from getting anything, including his own trust fund.

But—now that he was better, Eric had had enough as well. It was time to end Appius's influence on his life. And—ironically—that was going to take place on Christmas. After years of facing his father's bullying at the Northman Mansion during their holiday meetings, Eric was going to be conducting his own meeting. He hoped to produce a settlement that would be good for all of his siblings; however, he was ready to use his grandfather John's Will as leverage. And he was prepared to fight dirty.

Not surprisingly, Appius's Will appointed Nora as CEO of NP until Eric's thirty-fifth birthday. Then, Nora was to become Appius's "agent" in all matters regarding the contract between Eric and Appius. Nora was also the executrix of Appius's Will, though Sophie-Anne was due to inherit a third of his estate—not counting the NP stock he'd still held at the time of his death.

However, once Eric woke up from his coma, his remaining "opponents" in the family had a problem. And—ironically—they thought that problem stemmed from the contract itself. According to that document, Eric had to remain Deputy CEO until he became CEO, so they couldn't force him out.

However, Eric's opponents had an even bigger problem than they realized: John Northman's codicil. Grace was likely the only one of them who knew about that document, and she didn't know that Eric was privy to its existence, but it was his ace in the hole.

If need be, Eric was prepared to break the contract on his thirty-fifth birthday. Once he did, he would lose his trust fund, and he would lose his remaining 7% of NP stock. His international division would also be closed, and Elsa would lose her pension.

However, just two short months later, Eric would get back all he had lost and more. Instead of having just 7% of the company, he would get the value of the 67% of NP that John Northman had originally given Appius. The only difference was that Nora—instead of Appius—would have to pay that value from Appius's estate.

After that, Eric could do whatever he wanted. He could make himself CEO of NP. He could reopen the international division and make it even bigger. Or he sell everything and leave New York behind. However, no matter what he did, the lion's share of the Northman fortune would become his. All that he had to do was wait, and now that Appius was dead, that waiting would be easier.

But Eric didn't want to hurt his other family members, not even Nora. Thus, he was hoping that those who were still his enemies—his grandmother Grace, Andre, the Faemans, Stan Davis, and maybe even Nora—would be reasonable.

And—for the ones that he knew couldn't be? There was already a plan in motion to get them out of his way.

Niall had insisted upon picking up Eric and Sookie in his limo; however, given the way Elsa and Niall were mooning over Johan, it was clear that the child was the real reason they'd been so keen to offer the ride.

Elsa and Niall had surprised everyone earlier that month by announcing that they'd gone to Vegas to "get hitched." Actually, they had blindsided everyone except Eric and Sookie, whom they'd told before leaving. Elsa had been worried that Eric would see her remarrying as a betrayal to his morfar's memory, but Eric had quickly allayed those fears. He knew that his mormor's love with his morfar was a once in a lifetime thing. She didn't look at Niall as she'd looked at Johan Larsson.

However, she looked at Niall with great fondness, just as he looked back at her. And Eric liked the idea of both of them having companionship as they drew closer to the ends of their lives. Plus, they had revitalized each other, and Eric was happy about that. He wanted them both to stay around as long as possible to watch Johan—and hopefully more of his and Sookie's children—grow. And, even better, his mormor was now closer geographically. She and Niall had decided to spend their summers in Sweden beginning the next year, but the rest of their time would be spent in the Hamptons. And they were enjoying the heck out of their great-grandson. And, from the sound of Johan's cooing, the feeling was mutual.

Niall winked at Sookie as she smiled at him; then he went back to teasing Johan with a stuffed giraffe that he loved.

As the limo came to a stop at the gate to the Northman mansion, both Eric and Sookie let out ragged breaths.

"Don't worry," Niall said confidently. "And remember that you are the one in charge here, Eric. Whatever happens next is up to you and Sookie—as it should be."

Mormor kissed her new husband on the cheek and then nodded at her grandson and his wife. "My handsome husband is right, min barnbarn."

Eric and Sookie both smiled at them as the car rolled to a stop inside the gate at the Northman mansion. It was Milos, who had been riding with Mikey in the front seat, who opened the door for them.

Milos had felt guilty and responsible for Appius being able to get to Sookie and Johan and then for his shooting Eric. But Sookie and Eric had reassured him that they thought he'd done the best anyone could have in protecting them. It had been Milos against Appius, Franklin, and Sigebert—after all.

Eric looked at Niall and Elsa. "Keep him here until I call—okay?" he asked, kissing Johan on the head. He looked at Milos as he got out of the car. "Stay with them."

Milos nodded, "Mikey and I will keep them safe."

Eric nodded as he helped Sookie out of the limo. Henry, Bobby, Thalia, Miranda, and Mr. Cataliades got out of the SUV that had been trailing them.

"Ready?" Bobby asked.

"Definitely," Eric said before looking down at Sookie. "You sure you want to come in for this part."

She gave him a look—the look he got from her when he was nearing "trouble" for trying to protect her too much, the look that reminded him that they were a team!

"Okay, min älskade," he whispered as he kissed her forehead. He led her to the kitchen door where a smiling Margaret had been waiting to let them in.

"You must be Sookie!" the older woman gushed, already pulling Sookie into a hug.

"Margaret," Sookie greeted warmly, hugging the woman back. Two years before, she would have had trouble receiving such a sign of affection from a stranger, but she was not the same walled-up girl that she'd been then. She was a wife. She was a mother. And she was proud to be Sookie Brigant-Northman, which was now her legal name. She'd been happy to reclaim the true name of her family; she'd been even happier that she no longer shared a name with Michelle Stackhouse.

Eric was the next one to receive a big hug from Margaret. "You scared us, Eric," she whispered.

"Sorry," he said.

"Don't do it again," she ordered.

"I'll try not to," he assured quietly.

"Good," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. "They are not expecting you for another hour."

"Tamara and Gracie?" Eric asked. "Stan?"

"Tamara got here with Stan about an hour ago," Margaret winked, "just as planned. Gracie's in the poolroom with Alexei."

Eric nodded a little nervously.

"Don't worry," Margaret said. "I'll make sure Gracie stays there until the unpleasantness is over. And Alexei knows to keep her busy too."

"Thanks," Eric said gratefully. "Where are they?"

"Gathered in the east living room," Margaret said.

"And Markus knows to let in the officers when it's time?" Eric asked.

"Yes," Margaret responded. "He's already at the door waiting for them."

Eric kissed her cheek and then led the others to the east living room. Henry and Thalia planned to stay right outside the door to await Blake's arrival, which would happen in about five minutes. They would also serve as back-up if needed.

Eric, Sookie, Bobby, and Mr. Cataliades exchanged a look and then took deep breaths as Eric opened the door. Inside the room, Grace, Sophie-Anne, Andre, Nora, Stan, and the Faeman siblings sat with their heads together, obviously planning. Eric's first move that day was going to throw a very big monkey wrench into whatever those plans were.

"What are you doing here?" Andre asked.

"Our meeting," Eric replied coolly.

"You're early," Sophie-Anne said, putting on the fake smile of a practiced hostess.

Eric nodded. "Yes." He stepped further into the room. "There is some business that we need to take care of before the official meeting begins, however."

"You must be Eric's new wife, Sookie," Sophie-Anne said, her fake smile widening. "I don't think we've ever met—at least not formally."

"No—we haven't," Sookie stated flatly, making no move forward to take Sophie-Anne's now outstretched hand.

"Is your wife always this rude?" Grace Northman bit. "Of course, that would be expected from someone who marries you," she added bitterly.

Eric ignored his grandmother's nasty comment. He didn't bother introducing Sookie to anyone in the room either. She already knew who they were, after all, and they were not the members of his family that he wanted her to meet.

"Eric, what's all this about?" Nora asked cautiously.

Eric lifted an eyebrow. "Protecting my family," he said evenly. "And doing that means getting rid of some of the people in this room."

Grace glared at him icily. "Before you got here, this room was filled with family; you are the one set upon ruining the Northman family."

Sookie squeezed Eric's hand to prevent herself from walking over to Grace Northman and slapping her. That wasn't, however, what needed to happen.

Once more, Eric ignored his paternal grandmother's nastiness.

Voices and footsteps could be heard in the hall, and Eric quickly moved with Sookie to the side of the room farthest from the door. Bobby and Mr. Cataliades moved with them, flanking them.

"What the fuck?!" Andre demanded, just as the door opened and a group of policemen and federal agents—led by Blake and Agent Batanya—entered the room.

Agent Batanya winked at Eric and Sookie and then looked at the other occupants in the room. "Senator Stan Davis and Andre Leclerq, we have federal warrants for your arrest. I hope you don't resist," she intoned.

"And I hope you do," Blake said under his breath.


	29. Family Law

Chapter 29: Family Law

"What's all this about?" Stan demanded gruffly. "I'm a United States Senator!"

"For the moment," Blake said under his breath.

"In your case, Senator," Batanya said somewhat sarcastically, "it's about quite a few things. It's about your using your position as a member of the United States Congress to blackmail Felipe de Castro by threatening to pull your support of his government contracts if he didn't sell his legally obtained Northman Publishing stock to Andre Leclerq. It is also about your helping Appius Northman to obtain surveillance equipment that is illegal in the private sector. And it is also about your complicity in creating a contract between Eric and Appius Northman that fraudulently negated the conditions of the codicil to John Northman's Will. And, finally, it is about the illegal campaign funds you took from Appius Northman." She smirked. "Yep—I think that's about it. For you."

"Ridiculous!" Stan said, puffing out his chest a little. "You have no proof of any of those allegations!"

Blake smiled, "We have the testimony of Felipe de Castro confirming that you blackmailed him."

Stan shook his head. "Who do you think a judge and jury will believe? A businessman with ties to the mob or a Senator?"

"Neither," Blake deadpanned. "But I do think that they will believe the digital recording de Castro made of your conversations with him.

"Felipe would never give you anything like that. If he did, he would . . . . " Andre stopped midsentence.

"Implicate himself?" Blake smirked.

"Mr. de Castro did implicate himself—as it turns out," Agent Batanya said with a smirk matching Blake's. "He admitted to placing two corporate spies into Northman Publishing, which was—of course—the catalyst for your blackmailing him." She paused, obviously enjoying herself. "You might be interested to know that the government has offered de Castro a generous deal for his testimony in your case."

As a matter of fact, Agent Batanya had good reason to smile. In addition to throwing Stan Davis under the bus, De Castro had provided some useful intelligence regarding several crime syndicates in both New York and Las Vegas in order to save his own ass.

Stan's expression exhibited both his fear and his shock. It was only then that he noticed Tamara had come into the room.

"Tammy," he said, looking at his sister like she was his lifeline. He stood up a little straighter. Tamara was the craftiest lawyer Stan had ever met, and even though she focused on corporate law, he knew that she could help him. He looked back at Agent Batanya with a little sneer on his face. "Agent, this is my sister Tamara Davis-Northman. She will be acting as my attorney. Any questions you have of me can go through her. And I'm sure that she'll want to study that warrant you have."

When Tamara didn't move immediately to take the warrant, Stan looked back at her, his eyes begging.

Tamara shook her head. "I didn't come here today for you, Stan. I am here to support my family. I am here to support Eric and Sookie."

"What?" Stan asked indignantly.

Tamara scoffed, obviously upset. "Daddy was in the Senate for forty years, and he trusted you to work for the people just as honorably as he did. He trusted you to make life better for the citizens of this state." She shook her head again, "I'm just glad he didn't live to see what you've done."

"Tammy, please help me!" Stan begged. "I can explain everything. Nothing is as it seems, Tammy! I swear!"

"No!" she answered firmly. "Who do you think helped Eric to find the evidence of your wrongdoing?" She sighed deeply as a tear dropped down her cheek. She quickly brushed it away. "I didn't want to believe any such evidence existed, but I helped him anyway because of what he'd been through and because he's Gracie's brother. I was hoping I wouldn't find anything, Stan. But I did. I found a lot."

"What did you do?" Stan asked, a look of angry accusation now on his face.

"You're not the only one who has the combination to Daddy's old safe in the house," she said quietly.

Stan gasped, knowing there were things in his safe that would prove him guilty of all of the charges against him—and more. Never trusting Appius fully, Stan had kept information that could be used to blackmail his "friend." Sadly, that information could now be used against him too.

"How could you?" he asked his sister in disbelief. "How could you betray me?"

Tamara sighed. "I'm sorry, Stan, but you made your bed when you let Appius buy you and when you helped him to hurt Eric. And now look what has happened!" She shook her head. "Eric was almost killed!" Her volume rose. "His wife and tiny baby were almost killed!"

"I had nothing to do with that!" Stan said insistently.

"Didn't you?" Tamara asked. "You were Appius's friend, Stan—maybe his closest friend in the end. And I know that you were there when Appius ambushed Eric with the DNA testing. You knew how much he hated Eric. Yet—did you try to counsel him to accept Eric after he got the results of the test? No. Did you try to talk him out of spying on his own son?" She shook her head. "No! In fact, you helped him to acquire illegal equipment!"

"I had no idea how far Appius would go," Stan said, a little defeat in his voice.

"I think you did," Tamara said sadly. "You should have tried to help him—before his insane notions about Eric boiled over." She paused and took a shaky breath. "And now my little girl no longer has a father—or an uncle."

"Tammy," Stan said, "please just help me, and we can work everything else out later."

She shook her head and stood up a little straighter. "Like I said, I am here today on behalf of Eric, Sookie, and Northman Publishing," she informed in a professional tone. "As far as I'm concerned, you are not my brother any longer."

The family drama in the room was interrupted by Andre's slick voice. "I am guilty of none of the things Stan has been accused of."

"No," Bobby said from next to Eric, "but we have evidence of your involvement in trying to frame Guo Li and Eric of corporate theft."

"I did no such thing," Andre insisted, his tone becoming even more reptilian—if possible.

"We have Franklin Mott in custody," Agent Batanya stated flatly. "And let's just say that—after he was charged with child endangerment and accessory to attempted murder—he's been extremely cooperative."

"Andre," Sophie-Anne said, clearly upset, "what have you done?"

Andre's demeanor turned on a dime. "I only ever did what Appius asked of me," he said bitterly. "And I only did it so that he would love me!"

Looking afraid, Sophie-Anne scooted away from her normally controlled brother.

"I loved him so much," Andre said in an eerily even tone. "While you got to play his wife, I was his true partner. But he never told me why he hated you so much," he said turning his gaze to Eric. "He never trusted me enough. He didn't love me," he finished bitterly.

Eric spoke compassionately. "He didn't love anyone."

Andre shook his head. "That's not true. He loved her."

"My mother," Eric sighed.

Andre nodded. "I found a picture in his desk—after he died."

"A picture?" Eric asked.

"Of your mother with you," Andre said. "He had no picture of me."

Eric's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity!" Andre said with sudden maliciousness. "If he would have asked me to, I would have killed you for him. I would have gone to that hospital and killed you both and your child. I would have done anything to make him love me." He glared at Eric and Sookie.

Eric growled and stepped in front of Sookie a little.

"Andre!" Sophie-Anne cried out, horrified.

"I could hurt Northman Publishing—you know?" Andre said, his tone eerie again. "Appius didn't exactly conduct business legally all the time."

"I doubt if he left proof of his business wrongdoings behind," Eric said cautiously to the man who had just admitted that he would have killed his family for Appius.

"No," Andre admitted, "but I could make things difficult." He closed his eyes. "But I won't." He turned back to Sophie-Anne, his eyes softening. "I am sorry, Sister. I do not mean to be bitter toward you—or to make you upset. Trying to love Appius, I changed. But—do not doubt it; I love you."

A tear slipped down Sophie-Anne's face. "I love you too, Andre. And I know you loved Appius."

"Not enough to make him love me," Andre said, his voice sad again. He looked back at Eric. "I still love him—too much to hurt his reputation, so I won't talk about what I know."

Eric nodded and spoke firmly. "I've been told that the charges against you will likely put you in prison for less than a year. After that, you will not come near my family. If you do . . . ," he started.

"Mr. Northman," Agent Batanya interrupted. "I'd advise you against making any kind of threat in the presence of so many police officers and FBI agents," she said with a smirk.

Eric caught on quickly. "I was just going to remind Andre that I could call the police, and he would go back to prison if he threatened my family."

Agent Batanya' smirk grew. "That is what I thought you were going to say. Well—as much as I love drama—it is Christmas, and I have a nice dinner waiting for me after a pile of paperwork." She motioned toward Blake who pulled a pair of cuffs out of his pocket. Another policeman also took out a pair of cuffs.

"Are those needed?" Stan asked.

"Yes," Blake said with a smirk as he cuffed Stan, making sure the metal was tight.

Andre accepted his cuffs in silence.

"We're sorry to interrupt your Christmas," Agent Batanya said with a little nod and a not-so-little smirk in Grace Northman's direction.

Blake gave Sookie a little wink before leading his own charge out of the door of the room. The other officers and agents quickly left as well.

"Go with him," Sophie-Anne said desperately, looking at Neave and Lochlan. "Please, one of you go with him."

Neave and Lochlan had a brief conversation before Lochlan rose to follow Andre.

Those remaining in the room were quiet for a moment as they each processed what had happened.

Grace was, not surprisingly, the first to speak up. "What have you done?" she asked Eric accusingly. "What you just did will tarnish this family even more than you have already done!"

Sookie stepped in front of Eric this time; she'd had enough of Grace Northman. "It's not Eric who's tarnished the Northman name; it was your son!"

"Shut up! You have no say here!" Grace said.

"No, Grandmother," Eric said sharply, "it's time for you to shut up. For years, you stood back and watched as Appius abused and neglected me." He shook his head incredulously. "What kind of woman does that?"

"The kind who is trying to protect her son," Grace said. "It was your mother who caused all of the problems for my child. She was never good enough for him. And—even though you turned out to have Appius's blood—you are not worthy to have the Northman name either!"

"Grace!" Sophie-Anne cried out, with unexpected force in her voice. The young woman sat up a little straighter and looked at her mother-in-law with defiance.

"What?" the elder woman asked irritably.

Sophie-Anne took a deep breath, "I know all this is difficult for you, Grace. It is difficult for us all. But please don't make things worse."

Grace looked affronted. "He is the one who just made things worse," she accused glaring at Eric. "Stan and Andre were needed—to keep Northman Publishing strong. To keep him from ruining Appius's legacy to his true children!"

Sophie-Anne sighed deeply. "Grace, I think you'd better leave."

"What?!" the elder woman said in shock.

In fact, most of the people still in the room seemed to be in shock because of Sophie-Anne's words.

Sophie-Anne patted Grace's hand. "You have always been kind to me, even though you knew that Appius and my arrangement had nothing to do with love. And you have been a wonderful grandmother to Appius Jr. But," she sighed, "Appius's actions have led to changes that we cannot stop. And—to my shame—I have willingly buried my head in the sand, so I am only just beginning to understand the damage Appius caused. It is costing me a brother."

"He is costing you a brother!" Grace insisted, gesturing toward Eric. "Things were under control, and they would have stayed that way if Eric had just shut up and gone along with what the family wanted."

"How much was I supposed to go along with?" Eric asked in a haunted tone. "Was I supposed to shrink up and die when I was a kid? Was I supposed to let Appius mentally torture me all throughout my adulthood? Was I supposed to let him take away everything I ever loved?" His voice caught. "Was I supposed to let him kill my wife—my son?" He shook his head and a tear streaked down his cheek. "Appius was insane at the hospital. You didn't see him."

"If he was insane, it was only because you and your mother made him that way," Grace said indignantly.

"No," Eric sighed. "And the sooner you recognize that and the sooner you adapt to the changes that will be happening, the better."

"Nora still runs NP," Grace said coldly, "and I still run this family. You would do well to remember your place, boy."

"You are aware of the codicil to my grandfather's Will?" Eric asked.

"How do you know about that?" Grace asked. She looked at Desmond accusingly. "You told him!"

"Appius spoke to me about it the day he died," Eric misled his grandmother smoothly. The last thing he wanted was for unnecessary trouble to come to Desmond, and now that Appius was dead, no one need know how he'd learned of John Northman's codicil.

"Why would he say anything to you about it?" Grace asked insistently.

"I suppose he thought I wouldn't survive the day," Eric said softly, even as he felt Sookie's hand squeeze his. "I almost didn't."

"John had lost his mental faculties when he wrote that codicil," Grace said, looking around nervously.

"No," Desmond Cataliades spoke up for the first time, "he had not."

"What codicil?" Sophie-Anne asked.

"The one that requires for all of Appius's inheritance from Grandpa John to be given to Eric if he's not made CEO of NP," Nora said quietly, looking straight at Eric.

"You knew," Eric whispered, disappointment thick in his tone. "I wasn't sure."

"Father told me last year," Nora confirmed. "He was afraid that you would find out and use the information to take away everything he'd built."

"Is that why you planted the listening device for him?" Eric asked.

Nora nodded.

Sophie-Anne gasped. Clearly, she'd not known about the codicil, let alone about the fact that Appius had been spying on Eric. Indeed, she'd known that Eric had chosen a "common" girl to be with—one who had a very interesting ability. And she'd been anxious to take advantage of that, but it seemed her husband's cruelty had run much deeper than she'd thought.

"So you are saying that Appius tried to kill you because he was worried that you would take NP?" Sophie-Anne asked. "But you were always supposed to take over when you were 35. Appius told me that before we got married."

"That was a stipulation of a contract between him and me—one agreed upon when I didn't know about the codicil." Eric laughed bitterly. "Everything he ever did to me as a child was because he thought I was another man's son. And—ironically—everything that he did after he learned that I was his child happened because he figured that I would be just as cruel and as spiteful as he was if I learned about the codicil." Eric shook his head and looked right at Sophie-Anne. "But I am not him. I'm not anything like him. And if you," he turned to look at Nora, "will deal with me, I think that we could come to an arrangement that would benefit us all."

Grace scoffed. "The codicil is no longer in effect. Appius died before he reached his sixtieth birthday. That means that Eric doesn't have to be made CEO at all."

Desmond shook his head. "The language of the codicil is clear. Appius doesn't have to be alive to make Eric CEO. And on the day that Appius was to turn 60, his agent, which is you," he said, looking at Nora, "must either give Eric the job or give him the value of 67% of the company, whether that's in stock or cash."

"Of course," Bobby said with a smirk, "if Eric refuses to take the job, he'll get everything anyway."

Sophie-Anne took a deep breath and looked at Nora. "I think that we need to hear Eric out and work with him."

Looking contrite, Nora nodded in agreement.

"You can't!" Grace cried out petulantly. "If you do, Eric will have won. And Appius will have built his company for nothing!"

"He will have built it for his son!" Sookie said. "Whether he ever wanted to acknowledge Eric as that or not."

Eric smiled at his wife—so fierce in her defense of him—and then he looked at his grandmother. "Appius has not been the only builder of Northman Publishing," he said quietly. "My grandfathers' companies are brought together in it. Pam has added to it, as has Nora. And so have I."

"Not like Appius did," Grace said, still fuming.

"Not yet," Eric admitted sincerely, "but one day, I will add even more. Don't stand in my way, Grandmother."

Grace narrowed her eyes.

"We don't have a choice, Grandmother," Nora said softly. "Please. Eric is right. We have to adapt now that Daddy's gone." A tear slipped from her eye. "I just wish I would have known that he was that close to snapping." She looked at Eric with pleading in her eyes. "I didn't know he'd try to kill you and your family. Please—if you believe nothing else good of me—believe that."

"I didn't know either," Sophie-Anne said quietly. "But—then again—Appius and I had little contact with each other."

Eric looked at his stepmother and his stepsister and gave them little nods. He sighed. "He had thought that he'd beaten me—that he'd found a way to keep me tethered and miserable forever."

"To Freyda," Sophie-Anne sighed. She too was dealing with the after-effects of the fact that Appius had not only tried to commit murder but had also gotten another woman pregnant in order to try to manipulate Eric into marrying her. Those facts were still rolling through the gossip rags, fueled by a report that Freyda had tried to commit suicide earlier that week. She was now in a mental institution so that she could bring no harm to herself or to the child she was carrying.

Eric nodded.

"When he found out that he couldn't keep Eric miserable," Sookie said softly, "he snapped."

Eric squeezed Sookie's hand. "I would like to bring my son into this house—as was planned. I would like to spend Christmas with my family. And I would like to come up with an arrangement whereby all of my siblings and I are taken care of well into the future." He took a deep breath. "And when that is done, I want to be a real part of this family. I want to know my brothers and sisters better. I want them to know my wife and my child."

"Here, here!" Tamara said, speaking up for the first time in a while.

Eric smiled at her. "I won't, however, be bringing my son into this house for him to face derision—any derision," he added, looking at his grandmother pointedly.

"Eric," Sophie-Anne said decisively, "you, your wife, and your child are welcome into this home." She looked at Grace. "And if anyone makes you feel like you aren't, it is he or she who will leave."

Grace snorted, but said nothing.

Sookie stepped forward a little and held out the hand that she'd withheld from Sophie-Anne earlier. "Sophie-Anne, I'm Sookie," she said. "Thank you for having us over today."

Sophie-Anne gave her a little smile and stood up. She walked to the other side of the room and took Sookie's hand. "Sookie, it's nice to meet you."

Nora also stood up and walked over to Sookie. "I'm Nora," she said quietly. "And I'm sorry for helping Appius; truly I am." She looked at Eric. "I really didn't know everything."

Eric sighed and nodded, willing to work with his stepsister for the time being, but not willing to trust her yet.

Though it was tepid, Sookie shook Nora's hand when it was offered.

Sophie-Anne looked at Grace. "It is up to you," she said.

Grace Northman rose to her feet, smoothing out her elegant dress.

"Please, Grandmother," Nora implored.

Grace shook her head and looked at Sophie-Anne. "I will come tomorrow to see Appius Jr. and to give him his Christmas gift."

Sophie-Anne sighed. "I am sorry to hear you won't stay, Grace. But know this: any hatred left from Appius against Eric ends now—at least in this home. I won't have you trying to make my child hate his brother."

Grace gasped. "You are betraying him."

Sophie-Anne shook her head. "I have learned today that Appius had Andre try to frame Eric for a crime he didn't commit. I have learned that he had Stan get him bugs so that he could spy on Eric. And," her voice broke, "I have heard—from my own brother's lips—that he would have killed Eric, Sookie, and their child if Appius would have asked him to." A tear streamed down her face, though her expression remained steady. "And I have learned that a lot of this was because Appius wanted to keep his eldest son from receiving a position in the family company! I'm not the betrayer here," she finished. "That role was Appius's. And he is gone."

Humph," Grace sounded inelegantly before turning on her heel and walking out of the room.

"I'm sorry about that," Sophie-Anne said, brushing away her tear and fighting to keep the composed countenance of hostess.

"Thank you, Sophie-Anne," Eric said.

Sophie-Anne nodded. "I have not been the best stepmother to you," she said.

Eric raised an eyebrow, probably because he was older than she was.

She sighed. "I suppose I am spoiled and mean at times too," she said looking at Sookie. "But I would like for us all to be civil." She shrugged. "I suppose that would make us better off than a lot of families."

Eric smiled and nodded. "Yes—I suppose it would."


	30. Restructuring, Part 1

Chapter 30: Restructuring, Part 1

"Whatever there be of progress in life comes not through adaptation but through daring."

—Henry Miller

"Happy?" Sookie asked, coming up behind Eric and wrapping her arms around him.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Mostly," he amended.

He could feel her head nodding into his back. He was standing over their son, watching him sleep in his portable crib, which had been set up in the kitchen so that Margaret could get her chance to enjoy him. She had agreed to watch over him while the family meeting occurred. Henry would stay in the kitchen with them—just in case. Henry, who had been dubbed "Uncle Henry" by Sookie, was Johan's fourth favorite person, right behind Eric, Sookie, and Mormor.

"Uncle Bobby" was a little put off by Johan's obvious preference; however, when he teased Pam that the baby cried and dirtied his diaper whenever she held him, he felt better about his station among Johan's favorites.

In fact, during the month when Eric was in the hospital and either Henry or Bobby was always with him, Johan had come to love both of his "uncles." Earlier that day, he'd found three more people that he clearly loved. Appius Jr. had stared at Johan for about ten minutes before deciding that it was "okay" not to be the baby of the family anymore. And then he'd become protective of Johan, making sure that as the adults passed around the amiable and social little boy that they were careful. Alexei and Johan had also taken to each other.

Alexei had confided in Eric that he was planning to move to New York in the spring and start auditioning for plays on Broadway. His work in the London theatre had been well received, so Eric had no doubt he'd be successful in landing a role, though he'd counselled Alexei to consider trying to get into Tisch School of the Arts at NYU if the auditions didn't lead to big roles right away. Appius's death had released Alexei's trust fund to him; however, the once "wild" young man hadn't yet touched the money—as far as Eric knew. And he'd certainly not gone on a party binge with it.

In fact, Alexei had asked his big brother to help him invest the money. Eric was proud of him.

Gracie and Johan had also taken to each other quickly, though Gracie had already asked Sookie when she'd be getting a niece.

Eric sighed and rubbed Johan's little back when he stirred in his sleep. Immediately, the quickly-growing child settled down.

It had been a good day—at least after Andre and Stan had been taken away and his grandmother Grace had left. Eric hadn't been surprised that Appius's mother had rejected him yet again, nor was he bothered by it.

"You doing okay—being here?" Sookie asked.

She—better than anyone—knew how much he'd disliked being in the Northman Mansion; however, without Appius there, it felt different to him.

"Yes," he answered honestly. "Now that he's gone, the house isn't," he paused, "haunted anymore."

He turned around and faced her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I like your family." She smirked. "Sophie-Anne might even grow on me, and you know I love Gracie and Tamara."

Eric smiled. His sister and her mother had come to visit them a few times since Eric had been released from the hospital.

Sookie's lips turned downward for a moment.

"What?" Eric asked.

"I could do without Nora," she whispered.

Eric chuckled and bent down to kiss her. "Me too." His expression darkened a little. "You know I don't trust her, but I'm willing to give her a chance at NP." He sighed. "In the end, Appius manipulated her as much as anything."

Sookie nodded. "I know."

"Hey you two. Thanks for waiting for me," Margaret said as she came into the room. She walked over to the crib and looked at the baby. "I'm looking forward to Olivia having one of these," she said with a grin.

"I don't blame you," Eric said with an answering smile.

Henry walked into the room with his arms laden with bags.

Margaret giggled a little. "How much do you want for this one?" she asked, gesturing in Henry's direction. "I could use a little help with the heavy lifting since Markus's arthritis is flaring up." She winked.

Eric chuckled. "Unfortunately, I can't even get him to work for me," he said.

"Wait," Margaret said, "I thought he was a guard—like Milos."

Henry shook his head. "No Ma'am. I head the security at Carmichael Plaza. That's how I got to be friends with these two." He motioned to Sookie and Eric.

"So you're here today because you're part of the family," Margaret smiled.

"Yeah— and the person who usually acts as their second guard, Miranda, wanted to be with her husband for Christmas. And because my husband had to work," Henry answered with a wink.

"Oh!" Margaret said. "Oh!" she repeated as understanding dawned upon her. "Oh well," she shrugged. "I suppose you are a bit too young for me, and I do have my Markus." She winked back.

Henry chuckled at the obviously flirting woman. "Actually, I think you met my husband earlier—Blake?"

"The NYPD detective?" Margaret said, fanning herself a little. "My—you are lucky."

Henry nodded. "So is he."

All four adults chuckled a little, which caused Johan to stir again. Once more, Eric placed his large hand on his child's back comfortingly.

"You have quite the touch," Margaret said as she saw Johan immediately settle into his sleep again.

Sookie entwined her hand into Eric's and leaned against him. "He does," she said in a whisper.

The large formal dining table at the Northman Mansion could hold sixteen people, and it had served as a dinner table just two hours before for the Christmas dinner Margaret had prepared.

The dinner had been awkward at times as the family tried to settle into a new kind of groove, given the fact that Appius and Grace were no longer there to "rule" over them. Eric had refused to sit at the head of the table when Sophie-Anne had offered it. Instead, he had sat in the middle, flanked by Sookie and Bobby.

Now that the dishes and the other adornments usually covering the table had been removed, the dining room had taken on the feeling of a conference room. A file folder sat in front of each space at the table, though no one was perusing the contents. They were all looking at Eric—looking to him.

All but two of the spots at the table were taken up. Sophie-Anne sat at one end. Sitting down one side of the table were Neave, Desmond, Amelia, Pam, Tamara, and Alexei. On the other side were Elsa, Niall, Sookie, Eric, Bobby, and Thalia. Nora was at the other end of the table. The two empty seats were on either side of her. The "geography" of the space did not go unnoticed, and Nora was shifting uncomfortably.

Eric took a deep breath even as Sookie took his hand. That action settled him, and he leaned over to her and kissed her forehead. The couple had talked a lot about what they wanted to do—now that they could do what they wanted.

Sookie had asked Eric if he would like to go back to school—to get his degree in architecture. After all, if Eric simply waited to break the contract until his thirty-fifth birthday, he would be extremely wealthy.

Eric and Sookie had also thought about moving away from New York—moving to Sweden. But in the end, they wanted to stay close to their growing network of family and friends.

And Eric had decided that he wanted to stay at NP. No matter what bad memories were there because of Appius, Eric felt certain that running the company was something he was born to do in a lot of ways. And—more importantly—it was something that he wanted to do. However, he and Sookie were both determined that things would be different, or he would walk away.

"When I was ten years old," Eric started after another hand squeeze from Sookie, "Appius told me that I was to be made CEO one day. He set forth a plan for my life, and I followed it." He sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have. When I was 18, maybe I should have just run off and done my own thing, but I don't think he would have let me."

Sookie looked over at him, and everyone in the room heard her chair scooting closer to his. He put his arm around her once their chairs were flush, and she settled against his side.

"Every time I did something that went against him, Appius threatened to do something to someone I cared about."

"Like what?" Sophie-Anne asked.

"They are not things I wish to think about or speak of anymore," Eric said. He smiled when Sookie pinched him. "Except with my wife and my therapist," he added.

Sookie gave him a little smirk.

Eric kissed her forehead quickly and then went back to the "speech" that he'd been preparing for days for his meeting with his family. "The point is I went along with everything Appius asked of me, and—when I graduated with my business degree—I was hired by Appius as Deputy CEO." He sighed and glanced down the table at his mormor. "As soon as I was hired, I was given control of the international division. Appius had only one thing in mind for me to do—something that only I could do."

"What was that?" Sophie-Anne asked.

"He wanted me to officially merge Larsson Publishing, my grandfather Johan's company, with NP. Oh—Appius gave me other options about making that company more profitable, but a merge was the best one, so I did it. He allowed me to access to my trust fund only long enough so that I could complete that transaction," Eric said, his voice catching.

"Appius told Eric that he would give him more independent reign of the international division, as well as full control of his trust fund once the merger was complete," Sookie picked up for her husband. "However, after the merger, Appius ambushed Eric with a DNA test."

"He thought I belonged to another man," Eric explained. "And—it is true that my mother was having a liaison with the man." He shook his head. "When my mother died, Appius discovered the affair. And he assumed I wasn't his."

Sookie squeezed his hand again and pulled him a little closer. "Appius was proven to be Eric's father; days later, Appius ambushed Eric again—this time blackmailing him into signing a contract."

Eric sighed. "The first document in the file in front of you is that contract. With it, Appius ensured that I would become CEO as my grandfather's will required. It also placed certain conditions upon me."

"The conditions related to Eric's role as CEO skirt the lines of acceptability when the terms of the codicil to John Northman's Will are studied," Desmond Cataliades said. "And the term whereby Eric gives up inheritance rights from Appius is clear fraud. Basically, he tricked Eric into signing away rights that he didn't know he already had."

"How did Appius hope to get away with that?" Sophie-Anne asked.

"Time, mostly. First, he clearly hoped to be alive when he forced Eric out at NP. If Eric voluntarily stepped down, the conditions of John's codicil would have been met, and their contract was kept private." Desmond sighed, "Knowing Appius, he probably thought that Eric would die before him. However, since only his mother and I knew about the codicil before, it is most likely that he hoped to outlive me." He shook his head. "Of course, I would have passed on the knowledge of the codicil to those who took over my practice, but I think that Appius was hoping that much would slip through. And," Desmond sighed, "the language of Appius's Will was clever. Stan did a good job trying to swindle Eric out of everything. The Will might," he said emphasizing the word, "hold up in court; however, extenuating circumstances—such as Appius's attempted murder of Eric and Sookie as well as the provisions of John Northman's codicil—will likely nullify Appius's Will."

Neave Faeman spoke up, sounding like someone was pulling out her teeth as she did. "Lochlan and I have tried to think of ways to challenge John Northman's Will over the years. Before us, Stan tried. And before him, my father, Dermot, tried to think of ways for years." She sighed. "We found nothing challengeable."

"Good," Sophie-Anne said, surprising the others at the table.

Neave looked at her cautiously. "I would have thought you'd have wanted for Appius Jr.'s legacy to be intact."

Sophie-Anne rolled her eyes. "Eric would never do anything to hurt A.J.," she said, calling her son by the nickname that had been catching on more and more since Appius had died. "Anyone with eyes and half a brain would know that." She sighed and looked at Eric. "I'm sorry about what Appius did to you—what he's still trying to do even now that he's dead." She shook her head. "And I'm even sorrier about the role my brother played in it."

Eric nodded at her, once again surprised by the support Sophie-Anne was giving him. It wasn't that he didn't expect it from her. Though she'd always been a little snooty and clearly believed in her own superiority even among members of her own class, she'd always been nice enough to him. It was clear that she'd known nothing of Appius's malevolence toward him, though that not knowing had ironically included her being willfully blind. Just as clear was the fact that Appius's actions had forced Sophie-Anne to come down a notch or two. And Andre's had added another.

Eric figured she'd be the better for it.

"So—what now?" Nora asked rather tentatively from the end of the table she'd been sequestered to.

Eric looked at his stepsister. "Believe it or not, Nora, I'm not your enemy. I know how much you," he paused, "loved Appius. And I know that he loved you back. But I wasn't his enemy either. It least I never tried to be."

"I know," Nora said sincerely. "It's just difficult to imagine what he did to you and what he tried to do," she glanced at Sookie. "He wasn't that man with me, and I . . . ." She stopped midsentence.

"You still love him," Pam said, teary-eyed. "I know. Me too. I can't help it."

"Me too," Alexei said, reaching out for Nora's hand.

Nora smiled a little and nodded at Pam and Alexei before turning back to Eric. "What do you suggest?"

"It depends," Eric said. "Have you changed your mind? Do you want to be CEO, Nora?"

Nora sighed and shook her head. "No. Doing it now it driving me batty, though I've been trying for Daddy's sake. Thank God for Pam."

Eric gave Pam a proud smile to convey his pride in her.

"Okay then," he said. "As Appius's agent, you can nullify my contract with him, and we can all make another agreement—together."

Nora nodded.

"Please take a look at the second document in your file folder," Desmond said, his tone conveying his years as a lawyer and his confidence in his work. "It is a draft of the contract Eric is proposing."

Everyone looked to Eric instead of at the document.

"What does it say?" Amelia asked with curiosity.

Eric looked at everyone gathered until his eyes fell upon Sookie. She gave him a nod and a reassuring smile, and he squeezed her hand in gratitude.

He took a deep breath. "It calls for changes at NP, but I think those changes will be what everyone wants. First, I propose that Pam and I function as Co-CEOs. On paper, it is better for the profile of the company if one of us is the official CEO and the other is the deputy CEO. However, I propose that Pam and I split the duties down the center, take the combination of the two salaries, and split that amount down the middle too."

He smiled at Pam. "What do you say, Sis? You've certainly shown that you are ready. Hell—I'll act as your Deputy CEO if you want."

Pam shook her head and brushed away a tear. "Damned allergies," she muttered, looking at her brother. She straightened up a little and regained her composure. "Well—how do we decide who gets the title?"

"You can have it if you want," Eric said.

"What about Grandpa John's Will?" Nora asked. "It explicitly states that you become CEO, Eric."

"We might be able to contest it—if I'm the one doing the contesting," Eric said.

"No," Pam said with a smirk. "You should be CEO, Eric." Her expression turned into a more sincere smile. "Even I can admit that you are better than I am—for now. I've been keeping NP afloat, Eric," she added at a lower volume, looking directly at him from across the table, "but the company needs you to thrive."

Eric smiled at his sister and mouthed a single word: "Thanks."

"And what of me?" Nora asked tentatively.

"You will become CFO again," Eric said. "But if you would allow, I'd like for you to have a Deputy CFO to help you navigate the more difficult twists and turns of the job."

Nora closed her eyes for a moment. Her expression conveyed both disappointment and relief. The relief won out. "Who?" she asked.

"Me," Tamara said. "Gracie and I want to move back to New York. In fact, we've put a bid in for a home in Eric and Pam's building." She sighed. "Now that my mother is ill, I want to be closer to her. And Gracie misses being around her family," she smiled in Eric's direction.

"So you'd help me?" Nora asked.

Tamara smirked. "Well—not for free. You'll see in the contract that I'd been making a nice chunk of change for my salary."

Nora smiled at Tamara. "Still—thanks."

Tamara nodded. "What is family for?" she commented sincerely.

"What of the stock?" Sophie-Anne asked. "Appius always drummed into me that the CEO should have at least 30% of the stock. That is the maximum one person can have—right?"

Bobby nodded. "Yeah. Eric already has 14%."

"Isn't it 7?" Nora asked.

"I currently control 4.9%," Bobby said, but as of tomorrow, Eric and Sookie will own that—at 1.5% above market value, I might add." He winked at Sookie, and Eric rolled his eyes.

"And I currently own 2.1%," Elsa said, "but tomorrow, that will be Eric's too."

"And the other 16%?" Nora asked.

"You are the steward of Appius's stock," Bobby said to Nora. "And I believe his Will allows you to distribute it among family members as you see fit."

Nora nodded.

"To back up Eric's official position as CEO," Bobby said, "you should give him 16%."

Nora furrowed her brows. "But Daddy . . . ," she started.

"Or I can just wait it out," Eric said quietly. "Then I would get all of Appius's remaining stock, plus the value of 37% the stock he no longer had at his death. And—make no mistake, Nora," Eric said with a hard edge to his voice, "I will wait it out if need be." He took a deep breath. "I will keep to the terms of the contract between Appius and myself until my thirty-fifth birthday. And then I will terminate it at 12:01 a.m. After that, I'll just wait and take all I can. And then I will restructure." He paused. "But trust me when I say that you would not be a part of that particular restructuring, Nora."


	31. Restructuring, Part 2

Chapter 31: Restructuring, Part 2

Nora's eyes widened at Eric's threat. "If I gave 16% of the stock to Eric, what about the remaining 14% that Appius controlled?"

"Split it up," Eric said. "Split it evenly between Pam, Alexei, Gracie, A.J., and yourself."

"And after you step down as CEO? Will you keep the stock if I give it to you?" Nora asked Eric.

"No. That 16% will pass to the new CEO of NP, whom I still hope will be A.J.—if that is the life he chooses. According to the new contract, he would be first in line to have the job. If he decides he wants to do something else—be something else—the selection of the next CEO will be made by the entire family. Each member would get one vote." Eric sighed. "It's my hope that A.J. will want to take over, but he might not." He smiled at Alexei. "His heart might lie in something else." He squeezed Sookie's hand. "But I won't have my children excluded from their legacy either. As far as I'm concerned, every Northman—by blood or by marriage or by adoption—who wants to be a part of the company should be able to be a part." He smiled over at Elsa. "And every Larsson too. It's what our grandfathers wanted," he finished, looking at Pam.

She gave him a little nod back, her appreciation glowing in her eyes.

"What of the rest of Appius's estate?" Sophie-Anne asked, somewhat nervously. "Appius had a lot more assets and investments than NP. If Nora agrees to restructure the contract, will you lift the injunction on Appius's Will?"

"As long as my trust fund is finally released to me, then yes," Eric answered.

"So you aren't going to fight for an equal part of the rest of the estate?" Neave Faeman asked with some surprise in her voice.

"You have standing to fight Appius's Will," Bobby said, looking at Eric. "You could get a part of the overall estate, a substantial one if you pushed it."

"I don't want anything more from Appius's estate than the trust fund that has been held over my head for years." Eric sighed. "I'm not even sure how large it is or even what's left from the Larsson side of the family, but all of my grandparents put it together," he said, looking at Elsa. "And I want to use it to strengthen their legacies and to take care of my wife and children."

Elsa tilted her head a little. "Eric, why didn't you ever ask me what was in the trust fund? I assumed you knew."

Eric shrugged. "Appius told me that—from the Larsson side—the trust fund contained the inheritance rights to Larsson Publishing. After that was merged into NP, I figured the Larsson assets were almost gone—though Appius told me last January that the land by the lake in Sweden is a part of the trust fund. I'm not sure what John and Grace Northman put into it."

"Eric," Elsa said, "it was hoped by John and Johan—as well as Grace and me—that you would one day take over Larsson Publishing and Northman Publishing. They were always to merge with you; thus, we wanted you to have quite a bit of liquid capital to use to grow the companies." She took a breath. "You are right that the trust fund contained inheritance rights to Larsson Publishing, but there is also a great deal of money in it—money invested in bonds. That way the trust fund would be comparatively safe from the fluctuations of the market. The money was meant to stay safe, but to grow. And it has now been growing for more than thirty years. I don't have any idea how much is in the trust fund now, but when it was set up, there was over 25 million in capital alone. Johan included the property in Sweden—with the stipulation that we would have use of it through our lives. And he included Larsson Publishing. John left you his Manhattan home and the land upon which Northman Tower sits."

Eric's eyes widened. "I thought Appius owned those properties."

"No," Desmond corrected. "When Appius wanted to change the location of Northman Publishing—to build a new structure and to expand—he went to John and asked to use the property in Midtown. And John and Grace both wanted you to have the family estate since Appius wanted something different for himself."

"Oh my God!" Sophie-Anne said. "You could kick out Grace!"

Elsa nodded. "Yes—you could," she said with a smirk. "And the bitch would deserve it, too," she added under her breath.

Eric sighed and looked at Bobby. "As soon as the trust fund gets released to me, I want the house signed over to my grandmother, Grace."

Sookie squeezed his hand and smiled proudly at him.

"You cannot buy her love, Eric," Nora said cautiously. "I don't think that even your giving her the house will soften her heart toward you."

Eric looked at his stepsister. "I know," he said simply. "But I won't have her worrying that she's going to be evicted either. She's lived in that home for more than five decades."

"You can give it to her on the condition that it comes back to you in her Will," Bobby said in a low voice. "It was your grandfather's home too," he reminded. "And though Grace may no longer wish for you to have it, John Northman would want that."

Eric sighed and looked at Sookie. "What do you think?" he asked.

"I think I love our home," she smiled. "And—no offense," she said, looking at Sophie-Anne, "but if that house is anything like this one, I don't think I'd want to live in it. Too big."

Eric smiled and kissed his wife's cheek. "I love our home too," he whispered. He looked up at Bobby. "Put in a clause that the property can't be sold and must be passed on to Johan. Other than that, make sure there are no strings when I give it to her." He paused. "Also, put in a clause stating that I'll pay any property taxes on the home." He looked at Desmond. "Do you know how they have been getting paid each year?"

He shook his head.

"Appius paid her taxes," Neave informed.

"And the rest of it?" Eric asked. "Grace's bills and expenses?"

Neave looked at him, once more surprised. "You would take on that expense?"

Eric nodded.

Neave nodded, a look of respect making its way to her face. "There's no need. John Northman left Grace enough money to maintain her, and Appius's Will includes an annuity for her as well."

Eric closed his eyes. "Now I understand a little bit better why Appius didn't want me to get ahold of the trust fund." He sighed. "I can't believe that I own the plot Northman Tower stands on!"

"Plus, Appius probably didn't want you to officially have Grace's house until after she'd passed away," Bobby observed. "He was probably afraid that you would kick her out."

Pam shook her head. "He never knew you at all."

"No," Sookie sighed. "And that was his loss."

The room was silent for a minute.

"As for the property in Midtown," Neave shared, "Appius calculated that the worst you might do was charge NP rent for use, but he was never worried about your doing more than that." Neave shook her head a little. "Ironically, on some matters, Appius trusted you very much, and he knew you'd never do anything to hurt NP."

Eric rubbed his temple with his free hand. "What about this house?" he asked.

"Sophie-Anne and I have been made co-owners according to the terms of the Will," Nora informed. "It is to pass to A.J. from us."

"And the rest of Appius's property and money?" Eric asked.

"According to the Will, 40% of the remaining estate goes to Sophie-Anne; the other 60% has been left to my discretion to distribute," Nora responded more quietly. "However, Daddy did leave some suggestions in a letter to me."

"What suggestions?" Pam asked.

"That Gracie, Alexei, and Appius, Jr. get at least 10% each. That you," she said looking at Pam, "should get nothing since you sided with Eric. That Eric—of course—get nothing. And that I take the rest for myself," Nora said sheepishly.

"And do you intend to follow his suggestions?" Eric asked.

Nora sighed. "I know that he was awful—unimaginably cruel—to you, Eric. I realize that now." She shook her head. "But a part of me wants to follow his wishes. It's all I have left to do for him," she said, her eyes lowering.

"What about the other part of you?" Sookie asked.

Nora shook her head and gave Sookie a little smile. "That part wants to do the right thing."

"And what do you think that is?" Sookie followed up.

"Splitting the 60% not going to Sophie-Anne evenly—six ways," she answered. "Ten percent each to Eric, Pam, Alexei, Gracie, A.J., and me."

Eric ran his hand through his hair. "I don't want anything from Appius's estate. And—with my trust fund coming to me—I won't need it." He looked at Sookie and then back at Nora. "If you split the remainder of the estate equally, I would ask that you take the 10% you were going to give to me and set up a trust for Freyda de Castro's child."

There was silence among the group for a few moments.

"Do you know anything about Freyda's condition?" Sophie-Anne finally asked.

Eric sighed. "As you have—no doubt—heard from the gossip columns, Freyda has apparently had a nervous breakdown."

"Yes," Sophie-Anne said. "Did she really try to commit suicide?"

Eric nodded. "Pills—the doctors don't think they affected the fetus, but they won't be sure until the child is born."

"That poor baby," Sophie-Anne said.

"Freyda was a victim of Appius too," Eric said. "She was already unstable, and he used that to his advantage."

Tamara shook her head. "I can't believe that the man I married—" she looked at Sophie-Anne," the man we married—could do that."

Sophie-Anne shook her head in answer. "I can't either, but—then again—there were many things I didn't know about Appius. And he was good at putting on appearances."

Tamara nodded in agreement and then turned to Eric. "Where is Freyda now? Do you know?"

Eric nodded. "She was staying at Felipe's home when she made the attempt upon her own life. Now, she's in a mental facility for the duration of her pregnancy—at least. According to Felipe, she still maintains the belief that I'm her child's father." Eric shook her head. "And her learning about my marriage to Sookie and the birth of Johan further spurred her insanity. Several times . . . ." He stopped midsentence and looked at Sookie, concern etched on his handsome face.

"Several times," Bobby picked up, "Freyda tried to sneak into the hospital when Eric was in his coma." He sighed. "Of course, with Bill Compton still out there, we had a lot of security in place, so Freyda was stopped before she could get anywhere near Eric, Sookie, or Johan, but that didn't stop her from trying. The last time it happened, she had a knife on her and was ranting about how she needed to kill Sookie and Johan in order to get Eric to love her again."

"Dear God!" Sophie-Anne gasped.

"She was arrested, but was released into Felipe's custody with an ankle monitor and with the understanding that she'd get help. And Felipe—to his credit—arranged for a live-in counselor for her. It was two weeks later that she tried to kill herself," Bobby finished.

Sookie squeezed Eric's hand. Because of Freyda de Castro and Bill Compton, her and Eric's decision over whether to keep permanent guards had been an easy one. Of course, Debbie Pelt had been fired immediately after the shooting; Trey and Rasul had very much enjoyed doing that. And Alcide had been even happier to call the police so that they were waiting for her when she was escorted from Carmichael Plaza. He was especially happy that he'd been the one to help the police find the money trail showing her payoffs from Appius.

Alcide had been glad to wipe his hands of Debbie Pelt once and for all after learning about how she'd been using him to hurt Eric and Sookie. And Alcide had taken over Miranda's fulltime position too, now that she'd started working privately for Eric and Sookie.

"What will happen to the child if Freyda cannot raise him or her?" Sophie-Anne asked.

"Her," Eric informed. "Felipe told me that Freyda would be having a girl." He dragged his fingers through his hair. "Despite being an underhanded bastard in many things, it's clear that Felipe wants to help Freyda, and he seems to have finally come to the conclusion that I didn't do anything to lead her on. She's just," Eric sighed, "unstable. And Felipe now recognizes that he made an error in trying to cover that up."

"Claudine, my granddaughter, is taking care of her in the mental facility," Niall informed the others. "Freyda has been diagnosed as having bipolar disorder. Claudine will put her on a full medication regimen after the baby is born. She believes that Freyda can eventually become stable again, though she doesn't think she will be able to care for her child for a long time. Felipe, however, has agreed to do that."

"Does Felipe still blame you for—uh—anything?" Sophie-Anne asked Eric.

Eric shook his head. "No. From what I can tell, he doesn't. And, once Freyda is more stable, he's promised to try to help her to understand that any fantasy she may have of me is not healthy—or realistic."

"Apparently, much of that fantasy was Appius's doing from the start," Bobby scoffed. "He was the one who encouraged her to pursue Eric in the first place. And then he made sure that there was someone close to her who kept encouraging her insanity."

"What do you mean?" Nora asked.

"Apparently—Victor Madden has been in Appius's pocket for nearly two years," Bobby stated flatly.

"What?" Nora asked with surprise.

"Franklin Mott—when he was caught—gave up all he knew about Appius. One of those details was that Appius decided to get revenge on Felipe for putting spies into NP. He bought Madden," Bobby said.

"Victor was well-placed to help to fuel Freyda's fantasies about me," Eric said. "He also made sure that Felipe thought that I was continuing to lead Freyda on." He sighed. "However, from the time that Mott spilled all the information he knew—including evidence proving that Madden was on Appius's payroll—Felipe has been reasonable. And Russell is helping with Felipe; he won't be a problem."

"Do you believe Felipe will let the little girl be a part of our lives? She is—for better or worse—A.J.'s sister. She's a Northman," Sophie-Anne said, sitting up straighter. "And no matter what Appius did, the Northman name can still mean something good." She looked at Nora pointedly and then at Eric. "In fact, I think it can mean something very good with you at the helm of NP."

"I don't know how much of a relationship we will be able to have with Freyda's child," Eric said honestly. "As I said, I believe that Felipe will be reasonable, but much will depend on Freyda's state of mind. And, though I regret it, I don't believe I can be involved in the child's life much at all—lest it feed Freyda's delusions." He looked at Sookie. "And I won't risk that."

Sophie-Anne nodded. "I will call Felipe tomorrow and initiate a relationship for our end that does not involve Sookie or Eric," she said decisively, looking at Nora. "May I tell him that 10% of Appius's estate will be put into a trust for the child?"

Nora nodded and then sighed as she looked at Eric. "Is there anything else in the contract you want us to adopt?" she asked, thumbing through the document. Her decision to go along with Eric's plans had obviously been made.

"Appius threatened to blackmail me with a lot of things over the years," Eric said. "And I have a feeling that his so-called evidence is in the safe in his office."

Nora nodded—almost imperceptibly. "Yes. I have seen some things in there—about you and others."

"I want everything he's ever held over my head to be burned," Eric said simply. "And I want to be the one to burn it all."

A tear slipped down Sookie's cheek as she literally felt the emotion in her husband's voice. She leaned against him again, wishing that she could push her strength into his body.

Nora thought for a moment and then looked at Neave, who had been carefully reading the new contract as they'd been talking. "Is it as Eric said?" she asked the attorney.

"Yes," Neave responded. "This contract nullifies the previous one between Eric and Appius Northman. It makes Eric Northman the CEO, Pam Northman the Deputy CEO, you the CFO, and Tamara Davis-Northman the Deputy CFO. Salary details are also given and are reasonable. In addition, the new contract calls for the stock to be distributed as indicated by Mr. Burnham and Mr. Northman. It contains the stipulation that Eric is to pass the position of CEO to Appius Northman, Jr. and sets various contingencies if Eric dies before that time or if Appius Jr. does not wish to take the position or if a majority of the family thinks Appius Jr. is unfit for the role. The only further stipulation is that Eric Northman be allowed to take or to burn any materials he chooses from Appius Northman's safe. It is," the shark-like attorney stated, "fair. And—compared to what Mr. Northman could do—it is preferable."

Nora nodded. "Where do I sign?"

"You want no amendments?" Desmond asked.

Nora shook her head. "No—let's do this now and get on with things—with healing."

Eric nodded at his stepsister. "Thank you, Nora."

"No Eric. Thank you. Given what you have been through, you don't have to be kind. Yet that is exactly what you are doing—exactly who you've been the whole time. I'm sorry I allowed myself to be manipulated into thinking otherwise."

Eric nodded again, this time with a little smile on his face. He still didn't really trust his stepsister, but the fact that she was cooperating and seemed truly contrite was promising.

Desmond stood up, the master copy of the contract in his hands. He handed it to Neave, who quickly scanned it to make sure it was the same as the draft. When the attorney was done, she nodded toward Nora.

"This new contract will require the signatures of Tamara, Pam, Eric, and Nora," Desmond informed. He looked at Neave. "Are you willing to witness?"

The attorney nodded.

"Good," Desmond said, looking at Thalia and Amelia. "Are you two willing to act as witnesses as well, since you aren't related to anyone here? Yet at least?" he answered with a twinkle in his eyes. Amelia and Pam had recently become engaged.

Both Thalia and Amelia nodded in agreement.

Desmond first walked over to Nora and showed her the four places she would be required to sign. The first signature negated the original contract between Eric and Appius. The second one indicated her acceptance of the position of CFO at NP. The third agreed to the distribution of the stock as had been discussed. The fourth allowed Eric to go through the contents of Appius's safe.

Next, Desmond had Pam sign the contract, accepting the position of Deputy CEO with the understanding that, in practice, she and Eric would be Co-CEOs and would receive the same salary and benefits. Third, Desmond asked Tamara to sign the document to accept the Deputy CFO position.

And finally, the lawyer walked over to Eric, giving him a subtle wink as he put the document in front of him. Desmond held out a pen to Eric.

"I have one," Eric said in a scratchy voice, as he pulled out the pen that had once belonged to the first of his ancestors who had stepped foot onto American soil—his namesake, Erik Northman.

After years of trying to give the heirloom to his father, Eric now understood why John Northman had given it to him in the first place. It was an object of legacy—of hope—and Appius had been so mired in the past and in his bitterness that he didn't deserve the heirloom. Eric planned to pass the object onto his son. Meanwhile, however, he had decided to carry it—to remind himself that someone with nothing could end up with the world.

He looked at Sookie. Yes—the whole fucking world.

She gave him a beautiful smile. They'd had a last conversation about their future late the previous night after Johan had gone to sleep. But—in the end—as was true of everything that was just about them, their choice was easy. Eric wanted to stay on at NP, and he wanted to be CEO, especially if Pam was at his side. And, since they would be sharing duties, neither of them would become overwhelmed.

Sookie's only concern had been that Eric would be at work too much and would miss Johan growing up. However, once the idea of Pam being his Co-CEO was raised and once Tamara agreed to join NP, that worry had dissipated. In fact, Eric planned to work from home at least twice a week, and his team had proven to be well-able to handle themselves in his absence.

Sookie hadn't yet decided whether to return to work on a fulltime basis. Her abrupt exit from NP the previous January—since she couldn't very well give her notice—had left Sam in the lurch, despite the fact that Sookie had been well ahead of her deadlines at the time. However, being married to the boss had its perks. Sam had hired her back on a freelance basis, sending her some of the more challenging manuscripts. The best part was that she'd been given permission to work from home on any projects she took on.

Sookie nodded at her husband and placed her hand on his thigh since he'd had to remove his hand from hers to take out his pen. She knew that the gesture would steady him just as it always steadied her.

Eric signed the first line Desmond indicated. That line negated the contract between Appius and himself. The second line he signed made him CEO of NP. The third related to the selection of the next CEO when he stepped down. And the fourth related to his agreement to pass along the 16% of stock from Appius's estate to the next CEO.

Eric sighed. With four signatures, the last weights of the past were almost off of him. And once the contents of Appius's safe were dealt with, he'd be able to step fully into the present and look forward to the future—his future with his family.


	32. The Base

Chapter 32: The Base

"Jealousy is both reasonable and belongs to reasonable men, while envy is base and belongs to the base, for the one makes himself get good things by jealousy, while the other does not allow his neighbor to have them through envy."—Aristotle

"It's so fucking hot!" Lorena complained.

Bill looked at his lover, making sure to school his features so that his growing disdain for her didn't show. At any other time, Bill might have been aroused by the beautiful woman on the bed. Her naked skin glistened, and her lips were red and swollen from his earlier kisses. However, he was pensive and tired of her complaints.

It was hot to him too! Yet he didn't bellyache about it incessantly!

He clicked onto the website he'd been looking for. At least the place where they were staying had a faster Internet connection than the last one.

"What are you doing?" she asked petulantly. "Why don't you come back to bed?"

"I'm monitoring the news from the States," Bill lied. "I'm looking for articles containing our names."

Lorena rolled over onto her back even as she rolled her eyes. Her breasts flattened against her chest as she stretched her arms above her head.

"Find anything?" she asked with a pout.

"Not yet," Bill reported, as he scrolled over recent pictures from the New York Post. He checked the time stamp. They had been put online only 90 minutes before. They showed Eric Northman—looking, unfortunately, no worse for wear—and Sookie at a holiday charity event for abused children.

He studied the photos, his eyes taking in Sookie first. She looked to be about the same size as she'd been before Eric Northman had impregnated her, and she looked beautiful in her dark blue cocktail dress. Neither Sookie nor Eric was looking at the camera. In fact, it seemed as if the images had been taken from a long distance as the couple entered the event away from the press-line—likely through a side entrance.

Bill couldn't ignore the fact that Eric's hand was protectively wrapped around Sookie's shoulder, nor could he overlook the fact that her hand gripped his arm. According to the caption, the event was the first "Eric and Sookie Northman" had attended since Eric's shooting. There was no sign of the child. However, Eric and Sookie did have two body guards with them, one of whom Bill recognized from the hospital.

He sighed. Getting to Sookie was going to be difficult.

"You never did tell me if you liked it," Lorena purred from the bed. She was twirling a finger through her hair.

Bill tilted his head and studied her for a moment.

"After all," Lorena added, "you were the one to suggest this color."

Bill smiled as he appreciated Lorena's newly blond hair. It was a little bit lighter than Sookie's golden locks. However, it was an improvement.

"I thought I showed you how much I liked it," Bill leered. In fact, he'd fucked her as soon as he'd seen her with her fresh hair color and blue contacts—parts of her latest disguise. They certainly helped to stir his imagination.

He glanced back at the computer screen and frowned a little. Even with Lorena's changed looks, she didn't compare to Sookie's beauty.

Bill had to hold in another sigh as he felt his cock hardening. As much as he hated to admit it, he was losing control of himself. The months of being on the run with Lorena, whom he half despised and half lusted for, had taken their toll. And even he could admit that the feelings he had for Sookie weren't quite healthy or normal.

Perhaps—they never had been. In Mississippi, he'd seen her as a potential asset. Hell, he'd even been willing to let his interest in her go—until Appius Northman had given him the perfect opportunity to act. It was too bad that Agent Batanya couldn't let it go and that Eric Northman couldn't just do the world a fucking favor and die for good!

Still, a big part of him knew that if he could just see Sookie again and—more importantly—get her alone, he could convince her that Northman was all wrong for her. He could make her see that Northman's life had already hurt her—and would continue to hurt her more if she stayed with him.

Bill smiled a little. Yes. It was high time for his months of running and hiding to bear fruit.

"Come back to bed—please," Lorena begged with a seductive bat of her lashes.

Bill sighed and closed his browser, making sure that the program he'd created to erase his search history was working. As much as it had been a pain at the time, the doctorate degree in computing that he'd almost completed while pursuing Sookie at Ole Miss had come in handy many times.

He rose to his feet, still naked from his earlier tumble with Lorena. Roughly, he flipped her body and didn't even bother to check her readiness before entering her from behind. She moaned with delight like a wanton whore. However, Bill shut out the sound and focused on the blond hair before him.

He bit his bottom lip to keep from crying out Sookie's name as he continued to thrust into the woman in front of him. It didn't take him long to finish, and he collapsed onto her body.

"Ungh!" she sounded. "Get off. You're too hot."

Bill scoffed as he rolled off of Lorena and came out of his fantasy. "We won't be hot for long," he said.

Lorena propped herself up on her elbow. "Bill—about going back to New York. It's not just to be close to her again—is it?"

"Of course not, darling," he lied smoothly. "But—you know as well as I do that it's time to move on. And now that your contact has come through with our new passports," he said affecting the accent of the Australian he was to pretend to be, "there's no reason we can't go back to the States—so long as we keep a low profile."

"But why New York?" Lorena asked.

"Because we have someone there waiting to help us."

She sneered. "Who?"

"All you need to know is that she wants to help us very much, and she has the money to do it."

"She?" Lorena asked jealously.

Bill sighed. He'd not meant to let the gender of his accomplice slip. "Yes—it is a woman, but she is no one for you to be jealous of. You," he said feigning sincerity, "are the only woman I want now. It just took me a while to realize that truth."

Lorena—probably because she wanted so badly to believe him—smiled. "And you are the only man I've ever truly wanted."

Bill leaned in and gave her a lingering kiss in order to make sure she was placated.

"So—the woman who's going to help us?" Lorena pushed, after he'd pulled back.

"You'll meet her soon enough. All you need to know is that she has the resources to make sure we are set for life. And all we have to do is kill Eric Northman."

Lorena shook her head and sighed. "That will be difficult."

"But the reward will be great," Bill smiled sinisterly. "Ten million. And if we kill the child, it's another five."

Lorena gasped. "Bill, I don't like the idea of killing a kid. And what about your precious Sookie?" she asked sarcastically.

Bill schooled his features to contain his anger. "My 'friend' wants Sookie to stay alive—to suffer the loss of those she loves," he said, knowing that if he succeeded in killing Eric and his child, Sookie would only suffer for a little while before he appeared once more as her knight in shining armor. He would convince her to be his again. He would just have to be patient.

Nora Gainesborough tossed and turned in her bed. She still couldn't believe that the things she'd believed her whole life weren't real.

The man who'd been her father—her friend and her confidant—had also been a monster.

"A monster to the man I love," she whispered into the night.

She sighed loudly. It had taken Eric almost being killed for her to realize that she loved him—truly loved him. She cringed a little as she thought about the way he'd always looked at her—like they were brother and sister.

"But we're not—not brother and sister," she said aloud, wishing for the thousandth time that Eric had seen things as she had.

But he'd had to fall in love with Sookie Stackhouse, she thought bitterly. Oh—it wasn't that Sookie was bad; she was actually quite kind. And a part of Nora was happy that Eric was so happy.

"He deserves to be happy," she sighed, even as she wished that she'd been the one to make him that way.

Grace Northman slammed the phone down. Neave Faeman had just called her to inform her about the goings-on at the "meeting," which was held following the Christmas meal at Appius's home.

Grace scowled, not quite believing that Nora had betrayed Appius by negotiating with Eric. And now he was the CEO of NP! That had been the one thing that Appius hadn't wanted—but the one thing that he knew he couldn't prevent.

"Fuck you!" she said to the picture of her dead husband. She picked up that photo and threw it across the room. She was the only one who was even trying to preserve Appius's memory now!

"My beautiful son," she whispered. "Don't worry. I'll find a way to make them pay. I'll find a way to make them all pay."

Sophie-Anne sighed heavily as she hung up the phone. Her call to Felipe de Castro hadn't gone badly. In fact, she found herself wondering if he might make an acceptable husband number two. The only problem was that she couldn't carry her wealth from Appius into another marriage—at least, not until A.J. was twenty-one.

Her husband had been extremely generous, leaving her enough of his estate to be a very wealthy woman, indeed! However, he'd managed to screw her over in that she couldn't marry while she was still young—unless she was willing to forfeit that wealth.

And she wasn't about to do that! She was too pragmatic to give up money for so-called love. Hell—she didn't even really like men that much to begin with!

"Fucking asshole," she whispered. "It's not like he loved me and would have been jealous."

She shook her head. She'd been a model wife to Appius. But—at almost every turn—he'd fucked things up for her. Andre had become so screwed up by Appius that he'd likely be going to prison!

And then there was Pam.

Pam used to be such a wonderful lover to Sophie-Anne, but the relationship they'd shared had cooled down considerably the year before. Sophie-Anne now posited that that was because Pam had learned about Appius's cruelty toward Eric. Thus, Pam had ended their fling, which used to bring her to the mansion quite a bit. And now Pam was engaged to Amelia Broadway, who was actually Amelia Carmichael.

Oh—it wasn't that Sophie-Anne had "loved" Pam or anything, and she certainly wasn't going to be coming "out" as a lesbian. No. Sophie-Anne like the "appearance" of living the "expected life." She liked being the model that others looked to in society. And she'd had a difficult enough time keeping her own social standing from falling apart because of Appius's misdeeds.

"Fucking Appius," she muttered. They'd had a good thing going, and he had to fuck it up! And it had been left up to her to clean things up and to make sure that A.J. wasn't overly affected by what his father had done.

"Too bad that Eric's taken," she mused to herself. If he were not married, he would be the perfect man for her to align herself with. And he wasn't bad to look at either. Though she preferred women, she could imagine that sex with Eric would be pleasurable. But he had a wife and a child.

"Too bad indeed," Sophie-Anne reiterated.

"What do you mean I'm not going to get another check?" Michelle Stackhouse yelled into the phone. "I wrote a best-seller!"

"I'm sorry, Ms. Stackhouse, but your book has been pulled from the shelves and is no longer generating income. And—there is reason to believe that some of the information in the book isn't completely true," Lochlan Faeman said dispassionately.

"Every fuckin' word is true!" Michelle insisted. "This is just Susanna's way of continuing to punish me for whatever it is she thinks I did to her."

"Regardless, this matter is considered closed by Northman Publishing, Ms. Stackhouse."

"But you owe me!" Michelle wailed.

"Not according to the contract you signed," Lochlan returned. "Now—be so kind as to stop harassing our editing staff, or we will be forced to contact the authorities."

"I ain't harassing anyone!" Michelle yelled.

"Following your editor to the subway and screaming like a banshee could be construed as harassment," Lochlan sighed. "Anyway—you should just give up. Now that Eric Northman is the CEO of NP, there's no way in hell that your book will be re-released—and no way you'll be seeing even a penny more."

"Well, then, I should be able to take the book to another publisher!"

"Sorry, but that's not possible according to the contract you signed; moreover, the book was actually written by Ms. Flower, who was an employee at NP at the time of the book's production. Now, I think our business is concluded. Good day."

Michelle looked at the phone in her hand in disbelief. "That prick hung up on me!" she screeched.

Michelle paced her hotel room for a while, trying to figure out what she could do. Jason had already given her most of the money that his long-lost relative had released to him.

"Niall Brigant's another selfish prick—if you ask me," she muttered as she lit a cigarette. Brigant had called Jason several months before, informing him that he was a millionaire—but withholding most of the money unless Jason got a college degree.

Michelle rolled her eyes. Jason was currently trying to do just that, but he was struggling in school. He wasn't exactly the sharpest nail in the box. But he was loyal—loyal to her.

Unlike her daughter.

"Sookie needs to fuckin' pay," Michelle snarled. "And I'm gonna make sure she does!"


	33. Recovery Time

Chapter 33: Recovery Time

JANUARY 11, 2014

"Please," Freyda begged, "I just want to make a call. Why can't I have my phone?"

Claudine's tone was patient. "You know why. The last time you were given phone privileges, you misused them. You'd promised that you were going to call only your father and your friends—not Eric."

"Why can't I call whomever I want?" Freyda cried out defiantly. "Isn't this still a free country?"

"We've talked about this before," Claudine reminded gently. "You were free to call anyone—except for the Northmans. But within an hour of having your phone back, you called Mr. Northman."

"But he's the father of my baby!" Freyda shrieked. "Of course, I wanted to call him—needed to call him!"

"Try to be calm," Claudine said evenly.

As the lead on Freyda's case, Claudine had been called in to consult with the psychiatrist on duty when Freyda had become inconsolable. Due to her pregnancy, the medications they could use were quite limited. Two weeks before—right after Christmas—Freyda had seemed to be getting a little better and had behaved in a calmer manner, even seeming to accept that Eric wasn't her child's father. But—as Claudine had worried—her calm had been a façade, and Freyda had been hoping to achieve the use of her phone only so that she could contact Eric.

As a precaution, Claudine had phoned Eric before giving Freyda her phone. She'd asked that if Freyda's number came up on his caller ID—that he not answer it and that he contact Claudine immediately.

The therapist had been hoping to create more trust between Freyda and herself, so she'd given her privacy to use her phone. However, that trust had been misplaced.

"Please," Freyda wept. "I need to talk to Appius. He promised that Eric would be mine."

"Appius is dead," Claudine reminded softly. "You know that."

Freyda's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh—I remember. But—then—Eric needs me even more! He needs me to comfort him through this. He loved his father so much. Please—my baby and I can get him through this!" The distraught woman's tone changed on a dime. "Not like that cunt who's pretending to love him and pretending to be the mother of his child! That kid's not even Eric's! It belongs to Bill Compton!"

"How do you know that name?" Claudine asked.

Freyda smiled. "A friend told me that the cunt had had Bill's baby and was trying to pass it off as Eric's. Don't you see?" her tone changed again as she begged. "Eric needs me to protect him from that she-devil!"

Claudine held in her sigh. She'd rarely seen a more delusional patient than Freyda de Castro. Her bi-polar disorder had been made even worse by people around her feeding her delusional state. To Freyda, her manic—or seemingly "happy" state—was all tied up with Eric Northman and the child she thought was his.

The depressive state that had led to her suicide attempt had come when the therapist that her father had working with her had been a little too harsh in trying to get the troubled woman to accept the truth that Johan was, indeed, Eric's child.

"Freyda," Claudine said gently, "I want you to try to take some deep breaths and think of your baby girl—okay?"

Thoughts of her daughter always seemed to calm her.

"You're right," Freyda breathed. "I need to think about her. But—please—won't you at least get a message to Eric. So that he knows we're okay and really want to see him. I promise that I'll be good if you do."

"Freyda," Claudine said calmly, "you know I cannot do that—not with the restraining order in place."

Freyda's face fell and huge tears began to run down her cheeks.

Claudine looked over at the nurse. "Daphne, let's get Freyda some Doxepin—to help her get a little sleep."

The nurse nodded and went to get the meds.

Freyda's crying continued, but she accepted the medication and lay down when the nurse helped her. For the last two weeks, Freyda had been on suicide watch again, and Felipe had hired a specially-trained private nurse to stay with her constantly.

Claudine sighed as Freyda calmed. She was—undoubtedly—personally invested in Freyda's case. She felt as if Freyda was another victim of Appius's, and—for Eric and Sookie's sake—she wanted to see the woman well. She was also very concerned about the child Freyda was carrying.

But there was nothing more she could do for Freyda that night, so she left to get ready for the NP party at the MET so that she could support Eric and Sookie.

Freyda lay back and let the nurse that her father had arranged tuck her in. She held in her smile. She'd managed to trick her fucking therapist yet again. Claudine Crane thought that she was crazy, but she wasn't!

She knew what everyone was trying to do to her—and to Eric.

Eric was being kept away from her by Sookie Stackhouse—who had drugged him into believing that they were married and had a child.

It was sick!

But Freyda knew it to be true. Her friend, Michelle—who was Sookie's own mother—assured her that it was! Since Appius had died, a whole bunch of people—including Claudine Crane and Freyda's own father—had been conspiring against her and Eric.

Freyda was certain of it!

So she had set her own plans into motion. She'd quickly ascertained that her nurse could be bought. And, through Daphne, she'd been able to use the phone again—as often as she'd wanted—though she'd not risked calling Eric again. Clearly, his phone was being controlled by Sookie!

However, she had been able to contact her one true friend, the person who made sure that she was given updates on Eric's condition.

Freyda closed her eyes. She needed to get to Eric soon—before he was brainwashed to believe all the lies that Sookie and the vultures around him had been feeding him.

She shook her head a little, trying not to allow in the stray thought that it might already be too late to convince Eric that he'd been manipulated by everyone, except for her and Appius.

She resolved that if it was—indeed—too late, that she would have to take desperate measures, making sure that Eric was freed.

After all—she told herself—he wouldn't want to live imprisoned by lies!

But the truth was that she wouldn't want him to live—at all—if she couldn't have him.

"You look good," Sookie said, as she finished tying Eric's tie. "You're handsome no matter what, but I do like the shorter haircut better."

Eric gave her a wry smile. "It's ironic that it was my hair that was pretty much the last thing to get back to normal."

"Yes—pretty much," Sookie agreed somewhat flirtatiously.

Sookie chuckled. Indeed, nearly four months after being shot, Eric was almost back to normal. He'd been lucky—incredibly lucky. He'd stayed in the hospital another three weeks after he'd woken up, mostly for physical therapy. The bullet to his brain hadn't hit anything vital—thankfully—and Dr. Thomas Cooper was the best in his field, so the damage that had been done had been virtually erased.

Sookie considered it a miracle, and every day, she thanked God—and Eric's doctors—for her husband's quickly returning health.

In the end, it had been the bullets to Eric's aorta and his spleen that had come the closest to killing him. Had he not been in a hospital already, he would have likely died from bleeding out. And—if Dr. Ludwig hadn't been there almost immediately after the shooting to revive him and control his blood loss—he would have died.

Eric had stayed home with Sookie and Johan for another month after he'd been released from the hospital, though he had started working from his home office a little bit during that time. Mostly, however, he'd passed his first month out of the hospital by enjoying his family and finishing Johan's playroom—with Milos doing any heavy lifting.

Eric kissed Sookie gently on the lips. "You look so beautiful," he whispered.

"This dress isn't too much?" she asked with a little smile.

"That depends," he answered with a quirk of his brow.

"On what?" she responded.

"On your definition of too much."

"What's your definition, Mr. Northman?" she purred.

"It all comes down to one thing," he smirked.

"And what's that?"

"Whether I want to rip it off of you," he whispered, his eyes now burning into her.

"And do you?"

"Oh yes," he responded.

"You can't," she said, somewhat teasingly.

"I know," he half-frowned and half-pouted. "It's against doctor's orders."

"No," she said coyly, "it's not."

"What?" he asked.

"Thomas called earlier with the results of your tests," she said breathily.

"Oh?" he asked, suddenly even more interested and very—very—hard.

"We're all clear for lift off," she whispered.

Immediately, he had her hoisted against the wall.

"Eric," she said with concern, "be careful. Don't hurt yourself."

He chuckled. "You did say lift-off, lover."

She giggled. "Still—don't you think we'd better take it easy?" she cautioned. "It is your first time back," she finished with a giggle.

He grinned and inhaled deeply. "I know." He growled. "God, now I really want to rip this dress off of you."

"Okay. Then rip it," she said.

"Pam will kill me," Eric said with concern in his voice. "She's been going on for a week about this dress."

Sookie smiled coyly. "Not this dress. She's been going on about the vintage Chanel in the closet that she insisted I had to wear. This is a cheap Marchesa knock-off which I got to be," she paused and bit her lip, "Eric bait."

"Oh, lover," he growled even as she heard a long rip of lace. "I've been wanting you for so long it hurts."

"I know what you mean," she whimpered as she took one of his earlobes between her teeth.

He literally shook from her ministrations.

Between her pregnancy and premature delivery and his gunshot wounds and recovery, they'd not had sex in five months.

More cheap lace ripped as he exposed her beautiful neck and collarbones and leaned down to kiss them.

"The baby?" he asked.

"Pam," she gasped.

"Pam!" he responded, somewhat concerned.

"No. Johan's with Mormor at Pam's," Sookie amended quickly. She smiled up at him. "No one else is in the house, except for him," she said gesturing toward the bed.

Ned seemed to roll his eyes, but to the cat's credit, he remembered that he needed to get scarce when his people started to get frisky.

Another rip of fabric exposed Sookie's breasts. "Jesus," Eric moaned as he leaned down and took one of her already hardened nipples into his mouth.

"No foreplay!" she commanded as she went to work on his trousers.

He couldn't help but to chuckle. "Impatient?" he asked.

"We've had only foreplay for months now," she said lifting an eyebrow. "Are you really gonna argue with me?"

"No, ma'am," he said, ripping more scraps of cheap material off of her body. She wasn't wearing panties. "Sookie," he groaned, trailing his fingers down her chest to her very wet center; his mouth seemed to be following. "You will be the death of me yet," he muttered.

She yanked him up by the tie she'd just tied. "Don't you say things like that, Eric Northman. Don't you dare!"

"Sorry," he said breathlessly.

"You don't get to die until we both are ready to go! Do you hear me?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Say it!" she demanded.

"I love you."

"No—say it."

"Thelma and Louise," he said reluctantly. "Except I'm not a woman and you're not a redhead."

She giggled. "That's right. You and I go out like Thelma and Louise—together."

He rolled his eyes, even as he rolled her nipple with his fingertips. "Except you don't get to sleep with Brad Pitt—ever."

"Neither do you," she grinned.

"Agreed," he said as he claimed her lips in a bruising kiss that only increased their hunger.

Despite being pressed up against a wall, her dexterous hands and one of her nimble feet had managed to remove his pants and boxer briefs enough so that he was free of their confines. She tightened her legs around his body, and he thrust into her at just the moment when neither of them would have been able to take the physical separation of their bodies for another second.

"Sookie!" he yelled into the room.

"Eric!" she was yelling right back.

"Oh God," he gasped. "I'm so sorry," he managed to say as he began to move in and out of her.

"For what?" she asked.

"I'm not going to last long. You feel too fucking good," he groaned as he moved his fingers to her clit.

"Oh God!" she yelled in pleasure, as she exploded with an orgasm, which seemed to have been waiting for months to happen.

"Thank God!" he yelled, following right behind her with his own happy moment.

They were breathing heavily—gasping into each other's mouths—when they next had a coherent thought. Her dress was in tatters. Thankfully it hadn't been designer. His pants and underwear were around his ankles, and his dress shirt was still on. One of her hands was under it, her nails against his back. Her other hand was holding his tie with a death grip, holding him to her.

"Sookie," he panted. "Jesus. I'm sorry. That was great, but . . . ." His voice trailed off.

She giggled. "Fast. Wow!"

"Yeah," he said apologetically. "I don't think I've ever—uh—done it that fast."

She looked at the clock. "I decided to seduce you only five minutes ago," she said with a giggle.

"You succeeded," he said, still panting. "But I feel like a fucking teenager."

She giggled again. "I never had sex with one of those."

"Well—now you know what it's like," he said with a grin.

"You know—this is good practice," she grinned.

"Practice?"

"For quickies. You know how your son is—how he is not sleeping where he is supposed to be sleeping."

Eric grinned. Johan only slept through the night when he was on Eric's chest. "Well—now that I have been cleared to perform, he'll have to adapt."

"I don't know," Sookie said with a raised eyebrow. "He's a little stubborn."

"He'll learn," Eric returned, bending down to kiss Sookie's lips lightly. "Now that I can have you again, he'll have to learn. After all," he waggled his brows, "I need to reacquire my stamina, and you're the only one who can help me."

"You bet your fine ass I am," she said with a grin.

They both felt his cock stirring to life inside of her, and she rocked her hips a little to encourage its inclination.

"Ungh!" he grunted in pleasure as he rocked back and took them toward the bed, his pants still dragging around his ankles causing him to waddle awkwardly. "You know, min älskare, there was one really, really good thing about being a teenager."

"What was that?" she moaned as she felt him growing larger and larger inside of her, filling her once more as her own arousal increased.

"Recovery time," he smirked a little, as he brought them both to the bed, and then began moving in earnest.


	34. The Moment

Chapter 34: The Moment

"We all must live our lives always feeling, always thinking the moment has arrived."

—Tracy Chapman

"You're late!" Pam yelled by way of phone greeting.

Eric leered at Sookie who was sitting next to him in Niall's limo. "I thought that it was good to be fashionably late. And I have a very good reason for being late. In fact, I have two very good reasons."

Sookie blushed and popped him on the arm.

"Just get here," Pam snarked. "If I have to answer one more goddamned question about when you're going to be here—for your own 'coming out' party, I might add—I'm going to go ballistic."

"The limo just turned down Fifth," Eric said. "We'll be there soon."

He hung up the phone when he realized that Pam had already disconnected the call.

Sookie giggled. "No one ever taught that girl phone manners."

"Nope," he chuckled, though Sookie could tell that he was nervous.

"You okay?" she asked quietly. "Are you ready for all of this?"

"Yeah," he sighed, dragging his hand through his hair.

"'Yeah' to both questions?" she asked with a little smirk tugging at her lips.

"Yeah. You?"

"Yeah," she grinned now. "Who would have thought it? You and me in the public eye?"

He smiled and squeezed her hand, more grateful for her and for Johan than he could say.

As if knowing that he was being thought about, their child stirring a little in his car seat. Immediately, Elsa reached out to put his pacifier back into his mouth, and he settled back into his sleep. Johan was quite fond of car rides—and his pacifier.

Eric smiled at his grandmother in thanks. Mormor winked at him and then went back to the quiet conversation that she had been having with Niall. The two were going to skip the party in favor of taking care of Johan. Ben had given them permission to come to the control room of the MET for the evening—just in case Johan got fussy and needed his parents for a while.

Certainly, Johan was a good baby, and he was generally social. But he was also quite stubborn, and when he wanted something—especially if that something was his parents—he made his "wishes" known. Loudly. Therefore, it was always best if one of his parents was close—just in case.

Of course, Ben and his crew didn't mind the fact that Johan was visiting. They'd met him several Sundays before when Eric and Sookie had recommenced their trips to the MET. The only change to their previous routine had been the guard that Ben insisted stay in the room with the family at all times—in addition to Milos and Miranda, of course. So far, they'd not been bothered at the MET in any way, despite how often their pictures had been in the papers during the last several months. Of course, Eric and Sookie both still had the uncanny ability to stay "unseen" and inconspicuous when they wanted to. And Johan had been content to sleep against his father's chest in the special carrier they'd gotten for Eric—at least through much of their visits to the MET. He always spent a little while awake, however. And his intelligent blue eyes seemed to assess the room in much the same way as his parents did before he would decide that a nap would be a preferable way to spend his time.

However, at lunchtime, when he'd get fussed over by Ben and the other members of their "family" at the MET, Johan would stay wide awake. Doris was a particular favorite of his.

The limo pulled over at the curb in the same place that Sookie had gotten out the year before since they didn't want to take Johan in through the throng of reporters. Ben and Doris were waiting at the curb.

"Call us if he needs us—okay?" Sookie said, bending down to kiss Johan lightly on the forehead.

"Of course," Elsa said with a soft pat to Sookie's arm.

Milos opened the limo door, and Elsa, Niall, and Johan quickly exited the car—with Johan immediately reaching out for Doris. Milos made sure they were in the building safely before coming back to the car.

"Ready for the onslaught?" Eric asked as the limo moved forward again. "You know, we could have snuck in too."

"Don't think I didn't think about that," Sookie smiled. "But the Press needs to see you being all handsome and healthy and ready to take over NP."

"Handsome—huh?" Eric asked with a little smirk.

"Very," Sookie said with a blush.

He chuckled. "I love that you still blush around me."

"I was just thinking about how I can't wait to get that tux off of you—again," she winked though her blush grew deeper.

Eric growled a little and kissed her neck so that he wouldn't ruin her lipstick—again.

However, his ministrations were, unfortunately, short-lived, as the car stopped and then Milos opened the door. Henry and Bobby—who'd been made Johan's official godfathers the week before—were waiting to help Eric and Sookie navigate through the press line. Miranda and Thalia were already in the MET in order to make sure that all was well for Eric and Sookie's arrival.

And—of course—Ben had added quite a bit of security as well, given the fact that the press was rabid to hear from Eric and Sookie, who had yet to answer questions about their parents, their personal lives, or their child.

As Eric and Sookie made their way up the steps of the MET, Eric stopped and responded to a couple of questions geared toward his taking over the running of NP and the future direction for the publishing giant. However, he answered no questions about other topics, and Sookie responded to no questions at all—except for one asking her who had designed her dress. Knowing that Pam would kill her if she didn't answer that one, Sookie had smiled politely and announced, "vintage Chanel."

Once inside the MET, Eric and Sookie were greeted by a smiling Amelia.

"What are you doing down here?" Sookie asked as she handed off her coat to Milos, who gave it to the guard who had taken his place on Ben's crew.

"Pam sent me down so that you two didn't get sidetracked," she winked. "You look gorgeous—by the way!" she said, looking appreciatively at Sookie's dress.

Sookie smiled at her friend. "Thanks. Pam did a good job." In truth, the dress gave her a lot of confidence. Pam had done an excellent job picking out something that was flattering on Sookie but still modest. It reminded her of something that Audrey Hepburn would have worn: understated and elegant. It was Sookie to a "T."

Figure 1: Inspiration for Sookie's Dress

Eric and Sookie looked at each other and took deep breaths. They'd thought long and hard about whether to cancel the NP January party, but, in the end, it was the perfect opportunity for the family to present a united front to the Press. And the stockholders needed the reassurance that NP would go on as before—despite everything that Appius had done.

"Ready?" Eric asked.

Sookie nodded, tightening her hold on Eric's hand.

"Two hours and then a break?" he asked, as he reached up to smooth a strand of her soft hair behind her ear.

"That's a date," she smiled.

Eric and Sookie drifted around the galleries hand-in-hand—neither one of them willing to let go of the other.

Given that connection, the NP party was very different than the others that they'd attended.

Certainly, a few things were the same for Eric. He worked the rooms as he always did, casually discussing potential deals with guests, talking to the authors who had received invitations, giving words of appreciation to his team at NP. The difference came in the feeling that those various conversations brought to him. In the past, he'd had agendas dictated to him by Appius. And he'd been required to talk to people he didn't want to work with. However, people like that hadn't been invited to the party.

Thus, the mood at the event was much less tense than usual, and the group more convivial. It was clear to all involved that Eric would run things differently from his father.

For her part, Sookie was having a better time than she thought she would. It helped that Eric always steered her toward a friend or family member after he'd had a conversation with a colleague. Sookie could tell that he was making sure they participated in conversations that she could be more a part of, and she loved him all the more for his efforts.

It also helped that she felt surrounded by friends. Holly had gotten Sookie caught up on all the news in the copy editing department. One piece of satisfying news was that Arlene, Dawn, and Maudette had been let go after they'd slandered Sookie in the Press. It seemed that their lies and gossiping ways had finally caught up with them, and the Press was unkind when it had been discovered that they had been making up most of their supposed "insider information" about Sookie. Pam had given them the choice of leaving on their own—with a week's pay—or facing a lawsuit. They'd all chosen the first option.

Sam had taken over Pam's job, and Holly, who had just finished her business degree, had stepped into Sam's position on a trial basis. So far, things had gone very well, and she already had a new team of copy editors in place.

In addition to Holly, Sookie and Eric also had pleasant conversations with Pam and Amelia, Thalia and Bobby, Henry and Blake, Claudine, Alexei, and Tamara. Continuing to surprise Eric and Sookie a little, Sophie-Anne had also been quite congenial.

Andre—true to his word—hadn't exacerbated the scandal surrounding the Northmans by spilling the beans about all he knew of Appius's shady dealings. And—given that fact—as well as his cooperation in general, he had been offered a plea arrangement. He'd have to spend only three months in a minimum security facility for his role in trying to frame Eric and Guo Li for theft. When he got out of prison, there would be a restraining order on him so that he'd have to keep away from Sookie, Eric, and Johan, but given what had happened, Sophie-Anne didn't seem to hold that against Eric and Sookie. As another term of his plea arrangement, Andre had agreed to surrender his Visa to be in the United States and to return to France following his sentence. He wouldn't be allowed in the United States again, and he would have to check in weekly with the French police.

Pressured by his fellow U.S. Senators, Stan had 'resigned' from Congress, but it looked as if he was gearing up to fight the charges against him. Honestly, Eric didn't care what happened to Stan Davis—as long as he was a nonentity in his family members' lives from now on.

The only family member that Eric and Sookie had a tepid conversation with at the party was Nora, but that was to be expected given the circumstances. All in all, Nora was making a major effort to adapt to the new structure of her family and NP. As expected, Grace Northman hadn't been making things easy for Nora. She'd been trying to undermine Nora's decision to split up Appius's estate, and even receiving the deed to her home obviously hadn't helped her attitude towards Eric. Needless to say, Grace had not been invited to the NP party.

"Good evening," Guo Li said from behind Eric and Sookie.

The couple turned around. Eric gave a little bow to his colleague. "Thank you so much for coming all the way to the United States for this event, Guo." He smiled at the striking woman by Guo's side. "Good evening, Mrs. Lau. You look lovely tonight."

The woman next to Guo smiled. "Thank you. I am glad to be here."

"I'd like to present my wife to you," Eric said with evident pride in his tone. "Sookie, this is Guo Li and his wife Chun-Hua Lau."

"Please, call me Chun-Hua," Mrs. Lau said to Sookie as the two women shook hands.

"It is so lovely to meet you both," Sookie said as she gave Guo a little bow.

"Our pleasure," Guo said with a smile before looking at Eric with a tinge of paternal concern. "You are—well? It was with much concern that we heard the news of your shooting."

"Yes," Eric answered, leaning toward Sookie a little. "I am very well."

"You've had a son recently, Mrs. Northman?" Chun-Hua asked Sookie.

"Yes. And please call me Sookie," she answered with a wide smile. "Our son's name is Johan, and we'd love for you to meet him."

"Our own daughter has traveled with us to this event," Guo said, looking over Eric's shoulder. "She is—I think—quite taken with your brother Alexei."

Eric chuckled. "I will make sure he knows to treat your daughter with the respect she deserves."

Guo chuckled as well. "Very good."

"We are staying for a few weeks, and it will be nice for her to have a friend here," Chun-Hua commented.

Eric tilted his head just a little. "I wasn't aware that you were staying that long."

"This is a vacation of sorts for us," Guo said.

Chun-hua chuckled. "Of sorts."

Guo smiled at his wife. "Yes. In addition to sight-seeing with my family, I had hoped to have some additional time with you to discuss expanding the partnership between our companies—now that all impediments are gone."

Eric didn't need to be told what the main impediment had been: Appius.

"That would please me very much," Eric said.

"I have heard that your company is going to develop an electronic tablet for the distribution of your catalog," Guo said.

"Yes. Perhaps, our companies could collaborate on its development," Eric commented.

Guo nodded approvingly. "It would be quite something for two of the largest publishers in the world—one from the West and one from the East—to forge a partnership where materials could be exchanged on such a large scale."

"I agree," Eric said.

Guo smiled. "Well, we will not monopolize any more of your time this evening," he said. "I will have my assistant call yours to make a meeting time."

"Clancy will be waiting for the call," Eric said.

"Would you like to come to our home for dinner this week?" Sookie asked the couple. "You could meet Johan and see the renovations that have been done."

Guo bowed a little. "It would be our great pleasure." He grinned. "And if you invite your brother, I imagine my daughter would be happy to come along as well."

Eric chuckled. "Consider it done."

Guo and Chun-Hua bowed their goodbyes, an action mirrored by Eric and Sookie.

Once they'd walked away, Sookie turned to Eric. "Did you just make a deal with him?"

Eric nodded. "Yep."

"Is it going to make NP as much money as I think it will?" she asked.

"Oh yes," he grinned boyishly.

Her own grin left her face as she looked up at him with a little awe. "I'm so proud of you, Eric."

"Guo did most of the work. It is truly amazing that he still trusts me—after all that happened," he said, caressing a piece of her hair over her ear.

She shook her head. "Any deal he makes is because he wants to work with you," she emphasized. "So—again—I'm very proud of you."

He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. "I'm proud of you too, Sookie. I'm proud of our life."

She tilted her head up to capture his lips for a brief, chaste kiss. They were each struck when they realized that they were once again standing in front of The Four Trees.

Eric smiled. "You know—they were never really alone," he said, looking at the trees in the painting. "They just needed to notice the others."

Sookie nodded in agreement and then looked up at Eric. "This isn't where I fell in love with you—you know," she said with a coy smile.

He chuckled. "And where did you fall in love with me?" he asked.

"Has it been two hours yet?" she asked.

He looked down at his watch and nodded before she led them to Gallery 823 for their "break." They sat down on the bench in front of "their" Van Gogh painting.

"Is this where you fell in love with me, Sookie?" Eric asked, the emotion welling into his voice.

She smiled. "Yeah—but it wasn't that first night—when you kissed me for the first time."

"When?"

"When I saw this bench," she said, patting the wood. "Before then, I think I was just in awe of you. And my emotions were all jumbled together."

"Mine too," Eric said. "I don't think it will surprise you to learn that I fell in love with you at the same moment you fell in love with me—though I was watching you through a camera at the time." His expression awestruck, he shook his head. "Your face lit up so much the first time you saw this bench, and I knew that I would never see anything else as beautiful as your smile."

She sighed and was about to kiss him when her phone vibrated. Quickly, she took it out of her small clutch and saw that Niall had texted. She giggled as she looked at the phone and then showed Eric.

It was a picture of Johan sitting on Tony's lap in front of his computer screen. He was pointing at the screen excitedly. The caption indicated that the monitor was trained on Gallery 823. Eric and Sookie both turned toward one of the cameras in the room and waved.

In the next moment, Eric's phone rang, and thinking it must be Niall or Mormor, he picked it up without looking at the caller ID.

The smile dropped off of his face as soon as he heard the voice on the line. He listened for a while as Sookie's own smile dropped and concern clouded her eyes.

"Where is he?" Eric asked. He looked at Sookie and squeezed her hand. "Get here as soon as you can," he said before hanging up.

"What is it?" Sookie asked.

Eric held up his finger and quickly dialed his phone.

"Ben?" he said. "There's a potential issue. Bill Compton was spotted in Central Park about a half hour ago."

There was a pause as Sookie held her breath.

"Toward the southeast side, but still too close to here," Eric said stiffly. "Is everything okay there?"

There was another pause.

"Thank you," Eric said before hanging up.

"Bill's been spotted near here," Sookie said with concern.

Eric nodded. "There's a holding room right off of the control room that is completely secure. Ben is moving Johan, Mormor, and Niall into there until Agent Batanya gets here."

Sookie sighed with relief. "Why is Bill doing all this?"

"Have you not met my beautiful wife?" Eric asked, trying to add a little levity to the situation.

Sookie smacked his arm, but gave him a soft smile. "Yeah—but surely she's not worth all this."

Eric smirked. "Well—even I stalked you for a while. Remember?"

She chuckled. "No more than I stalked you the first year I was at NP."

Eric took her other hand and turned to fully face her. "Everything will be fine, Sookie. I swear. Ben, Tony, Doris, and Jack and all of the others are keeping a close watch. And I pity any fool that tries to hurt Johan while he's with Mormor and Niall."

Sookie looked up at the camera and gave it a little smile. She nodded.

"Ben has extra security at the front entrance. And Tony is reviewing the footage from the last half hour. Agent Batanya will be here soon, and since the party is scheduled to end in half an hour anyway, we'll start herding people out quietly."

Sookie took a deep breath. "If you are trying to make me feel better, it's working," she said with a little smile.

"Good," he said, leaning in to kiss her forehead. "Then I don't need to remind you that Milos, Bobby, Miranda, Thalia, Henry, and Blake are all close too."

"Actually, we sent Blake down to sit with Niall, Elsa, and our godson," Bobby said from the doorway. Henry was standing next to him. "Agent Batanya called me. So we know what's up."

Eric kept his eyes on Sookie and raised her hand to his lips. "You okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah—you?" she asked.

"Yeah."

He bent down and kissed her on the forehead before looking up at Bobby and Henry. "What did Batanya tell you?"

"What did she tell you?" Bobby asked, coming into the gallery, Henry following.

"Just that Compton was spotted and that she was on her way here," Eric said. "But I could tell there was more. I would have pushed, but I wanted to call Ben and make sure that Johan was secure."

Bobby dragged his hand through his hair. "Yeah. There's more. About fifty minutes ago, two people witnessed an altercation and then heard two gunshots near Umpire Rock in the southwest corner of the park."

"Gunshots?" Sookie asked, her voice conveying her fear.

"Yes," Henry said. "Two Parks Enforcement Patrolmen heard the shots too and spotted the gunman running away toward the Carousel, and the witnesses called the Central Park precinct. A dead woman was found, and one of the policemen thought he recognized the woman as . . . ." He stopped and took a breath.

"As whom?" Eric asked.

Bobby glanced at Sookie and sighed. "One of the patrolmen saw the gunman, and he was sure it was Bill Compton. Once they got to the body, he thought it was Sookie at first."

Eric tensed. "Why?" he asked, his jaw clenching.

"Well," Bobby said. "Bill's picture is out to all law agencies and he's been associated with Sookie. When the patrolman saw blond hair and blue eyes, his initial thought was that it might be her. That's why he immediately called Agent Batanya."

"Do they know who was shot?" Eric asked.

"Lorena Krasiki," Kate Batanya said from the door of the gallery.

"Oh my God," Sookie said, sinking into Eric's body.

"And the patrolman who was tracking Bill lost him in the Ramble," Agent Batanya informed with a sigh. "I was nearby because we got a tip that Krasiki was spotted on the Lower East Side earlier today, and I was doing a sweep of nearby rooftops."

"Why wasn't I informed?" Eric growled a little.

"Because," the agent said sternly, "the lead hadn't been verified." She softened her tone a little. "And because I've still got my agents watching over you and Sookie and Johan from a distance."

"We're not bait," Eric said, his voice still gruff.

"No—you aren't," Agent Batanya agreed. "But you are protected, so there are things that you don't need to know until they are verified. If you were on your own, I would have let you know sooner. But I have three agents assigned to you. You aren't alone, Eric."

"You two knew about the possible Lorena sighting?" Eric looked to Bobby and then Henry, who both nodded in confirmation. "How come you didn't tell us?" Eric asked.

Bobby sighed. "We didn't want to concern you if it was nothing. You two are just getting back to normal."

"What's normal?" Sookie asked with a little chuckle.

Eric looked at his amazing wife and couldn't hold in his surprised smile at her resilience. He knew he shouldn't have been surprised though. She'd become so much more certain of herself. He might be bigger—and more physically strong. But Sookie was the rock of their relationship, and he couldn't have been prouder and more grateful for that rock.

"Not us, min vackra fru." He smiled at her and gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead.

Agent Batanya sighed. "We get tips all the time regarding Compton and Krasiki, and most of them are in the tri-state area. There was no need for you to worry about all of them. But last week, we got a lead placing them in Alice Springs in central Australia. Authorities were able to confirm their fingerprints in a rented room there. And we found evidence that New York might be their next destination."

"What now?" Sookie asked.

"Well," Batanya said, "thanks to Ben's efficiency, this museum is actually very secure. I suggest you go back to your party. Guests are already leaving, and we are keeping an eye out for Compton. I have sent an agent to the control room where I've been told Johan is—just to make sure all is well. And several other agents are augmenting Ben's guards. They are stationed at the staircases and the elevators."

"Thanks," Eric said.

"So—you should feel free to finish your party," Batanya smiled sincerely. "And then we will get you two and Johan home safely. Meanwhile, my agents and I will be on the lookout for Compton. After the possible sighting this morning, I've had people monitoring the surrounding buildings anyway—since Bill is a trained sniper. And they have stepped things up since the shooting in the park."

"I don't want Sookie and Johan out in the open at all," Eric said.

Sookie squeezed his arm. "And I don't want Eric out in the open." She gave him a warning look. "If you get yourself shot again, you are in big trouble, buster."

"Buster?" he asked a little playfully.

"Yeah!" she said with a little giggle. "And if you do get shot again, you are moving in with Pam!"

Agent Batanya chuckled at the couple in front of her. She couldn't help but to like them. She just wished she could make Compton disappear so that they could live their lives in peace. They certainly deserved that. "How about neither of you gets shot," she said. "Ben will—I'm sure—allow your limo to come in through one of the delivery ports, which lead right into the building, and we'll get you out that way. None of you will have to be in the open."

"I've already talked to Kate about how to make the security at Carmichael Tower even better," Henry volunteered.

"And now that Bill has been confirmed in Manhattan, I can ask for more resources in order to keep an eye on the buildings surrounding your home. Also—if you will allow it—I'd like to speak with your head of security at NP. And you," she said looking at Sookie, "should stay close to home for the time being."

Neither Sookie nor Eric argued with Agent Batanya. They weren't about to let someone like Bill Compton ruin their happiness—not after they'd spent so long finding it.


	35. Wicked

Chapter 35: Wicked

"The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary; men alone are quite capable of every wickedness."

—Joseph Conrad

"What are you doing here?" Grace Northman asked in her most acerbic tone. "We agreed that you would never come here."

Grace turned down her nose at the woman who was making herself comfortable in her parlor.

Michelle Stackhouse narrowed her eyes at the older woman. "I don't see how you get off actin' like you're all better than me. I have money too now—you know? And I'm gonna have more real soon; my son's gonna be rich! He's a Brigant!"

Grace Northman sat in her finely upholstered antique wingback chair as regally as a person could. As she looked at Michelle sitting on the couch, she was already planning on replacing that particular piece of furniture.

"Yes," Grace said. "I know all about your windfall because of your book and your son. But my investigators have told me that Jason cannot touch most of his fortune at this time."

"An idiotic technicality," Michelle seethed. "And Susanna's doing."

Grace sighed as if longsuffering. "Yes—well Susanna or Sookie or whatever her name is will soon get her comeuppance. Now," she said as her butler came in with a tea setting, "why did you come here?"

"You got somethin' stronger than this?" Michelle asked, looking disdainfully at the tea.

Grace rolled her eyes. It was only 10:00 a.m. "Luther, would you please pour my guest something more to her liking?"

"Bourbon—if you got it," Michelle said quickly. "And don't be shy when you pour—if ya know what I mean. And I know you got the expensive shit here, so I don't want any Jim Beam—unless it's the black label. And don't water it down either!"

Hardly keeping her composure in the face of such a human being as Michelle Stackhouse, Grace fisted her hands and gave Luther a curt nod.

There was silence in the room until Luther handed Michelle her drink.

Michelle took a long chug of the liquid. "Mmmm," she said approvingly, "this is good shit."

"I'll let you take the bottle home with you," Grace said acidly. "Now get on with it," she said after Luther had left the room. "Why are you here?"

Michelle took another drink. "Our mutual friend came to visit me last night."

Grace sat forward in her chair. "Our mutual friend is in a world of trouble right now. He killed his whore in Central Park, and he didn't accomplish his mission!"

Michelle nodded. "He told me that he had no other choice but to kill her. Lorena was refusing to do her part 'cause she didn't wanna kill the brat. She was threatenin' to go to the authorities and tell them all about my involvement. Bill had to kill her to protect me," she said with a smile that made Grace nauseated.

Stupid bitch! Grace knew that Bill was manipulating Michelle, but she didn't give a damn. Bill Compton was a necessary evil—for the moment—as was Michelle.

Grace sighed. "Compton was supposed to be nested somewhere so that he could get a shot at Eric last night. I paid a lot of money to get him access to the roof across from the MET. Why the hell wasn't he there?"

Michelle glared at Grace. "It was Lorena's fault. She was supposed to pose as a member of the wait staff at the museum so that she could tell Bill where the kid was and when to expect Eric to come out so that he could be ready for him, but at the last minute, Lorena wouldn't go through with it! And—like I said—she threatened to tell the cops about everything! It wasn't Bill's fault!"

"Did he convince you of that before or after he fucked you?" Grace asked sarcastically.

"Before!" Michelle responded without thinking. She glared at Grace when she noticed her slip-up. "Bill and me—we got a little history—not that it matters to you."

Grace smirked. "No. I wouldn't suppose it does matter much." She sighed. "So—Bill's failed. Now what does he want?"

"The same thing he's always wanted," Michelle said. "He wants to kill Eric and then punish Susanna for all the pain she's caused me."

Grace shook her head at the delusional woman in front of her. Grace had only talked to Agent William Compton once, but she knew that he was obsessed with Sookie Stackhouse. In his delusional mind, Compton thought that Sookie would come running to him once Eric was out of the picture. Thus, killing Eric was only a means to an end for him, but that was a convenient happenstance for Grace. She wanted Eric dead—finally dead after all the years of pain he'd inflicted upon her beloved son, Appius. She didn't give a fuck what happened to Sookie or Susanna or whoever she was calling herself this week! She did, however, want their little spawn gone too. Like Eric, he would stand in the way of Appius's true heirs one day. Plus, as long as Johan was alive, he'd eventually receive her home, and Grace couldn't stand that thought.

The Northman matriarch sighed. "Here is what you will tell your 'friend,' Mr. Compton. Tell him that Eric will be here tomorrow night at 6:00 p.m. I will try to arrange for him to bring the child with him, but I don't know if I'll be able to manage that. Regardless—tell him that at 6:10, Luther will be alone in the kitchen, and the kitchen door will be conveniently unlocked. My other employees will be eating in the servants' area downstairs in the basement at that time." Grace paused dramatically. "There's a garden gate on the northeast side of the property, and the latch is old. I'd imagine that someone might be able to break it relatively easily."

Catching on more quickly than Grace thought she would, Michelle smiled evilly. "You really ought to get something like that fixed."

"In a household this large, it's difficult to think of everything," Grace said.

"I imagine it would be," Michelle said, looking around as if she were taking some kind of inventory. "How much does a place like this set someone back? When my son's inheritance comes through, I'd like to get somethin' like this."

"I'm sure you would," Grace said with a fake smile on her face. Michelle missed the sarcasm in the older woman's voice as she continued to study the richly decorated room.

Michelle smiled. "My Jason and me are gonna be livin' large soon, even as Susanna's miserable and alone."

Grace hadn't asked Michelle Stackhouse why she was so keen to see her own daughter suffer so much. In truth, she didn't give a fuck. What mattered was that the woman was a convenient pawn to help her to exact revenge upon Eric. However, a woman like Michelle couldn't be trusted to keep her mouth shut for long. Luckily, Grace knew people who would make sure that Michelle kept her trap shut. And Michelle's days were numbered whether Compton succeeded or not. Compton was also a liability. So he'd have to be taken care of too. But, first, they would serve their purpose.

And one of Michelle's purposes was to ensure that suspicion for Eric's death fell far away from Grace.

"How is Freyda doing?" Grace asked.

"Now that girl is crazy!" Michelle responded.

"But she's convenient," Grace reminded. "Did she arrange for your payment to be transferred?"

Michelle grinned. "Yep. It was real smart to get some cash out of her."

"She will also take the fall if anything goes wrong," Grace mused.

Michelle nodded in agreement. "So what about Eric's guards?" she asked as she frowned at her empty glass.

"Don't worry about them," Grace said. "I know some people who will make sure any guards Eric brings are not an issue."

"I'll let Bill know," Michelle said with a smile as she stood up.

"Tell Compton that I don't want Luther harmed permanently when he finds him in the kitchen, but he will need to be knocked out in order for me to look innocent in all this. Tell Compton that Eric and I will be in this room and that if he wants his money, Eric better not leave it alive."

Michelle put her empty glass onto the beautiful table in front of her—just off of the coaster. "I expect to be paid too. A lot more than what Freyda gave me already! It'll be a while before Jason comes into his money, and I ain't goin' back to how I was livin' before."

Grace sighed. "Of course. I haven't forgotten. In fact, you'll have your money tomorrow. I'll send someone to see you at around 4:30 or 5:00 p.m. tomorrow—if that is convenient for you."

Michelle smiled with satisfaction. "Yeah—I'll be in my hotel room." She turned to leave the room.

"Oh—and Mrs. Stackhouse," Grace said.

"Huh?" Michelle asked inelegantly as she turned back around to face Grace.

Grace sneered a little. "It'd be best if you didn't come here again. We don't want anyone to ask questions about why you're here."

"What about your people?" Michelle asked, suddenly a little nervous. "They saw me here."

"My people are completely loyal to me," Grace assured, though she was not able to completely hide her scorn for the hick. The bitch should have thought about discretion before.

"Well—then," Michelle said, daring to turn up her nose at the elegant woman who was still sitting as if she were a queen on a throne. "I'm sure that Bill will do what needs to be done tomorrow. After that, we can all go back to pretending we don't know each other."

Not wanting to risk the ridiculous woman's doing anything idiotic, Grace decided to placate her for the moment. "Yes—sadly—it's impossible for us to have a connection after all of this is done—at least not until you take your rightful place in society."

Michelle smiled at that thought.

"And, of course, I will always be grateful that you put me into contact with Compton; I won't forget that."

"Just remember—we're in this together. If one of us goes down, the other does too," Michelle said haughtily.

"As long as Compton is not caught, neither of us will be connected to him," Grace said. "Everyone will believe that Freyda was responsible for Eric's death."

Michelle nodded. "Bill won't be caught. He'll take care of Eric and the brat, and then he'll disappear."

"Excellent," Grace said, rising to her feet with dignity. "It'd be best if you left out the back."

"Why?" Michelle asked, her cackles immediately raising again.

"I figured you'd want to check out the layout of the garden for Compton," Grace responded, holding in her sigh at the woman's cluelessness. "Plus, I'm sure that Luther could find you an unopened bottle of that bourbon if you went through the kitchen."

The look of glee in Michelle's eyes over the promised liquor caused her to miss the patronizing lilt to Grace's voice.

"Good idea," Michelle said with satisfaction as she left the room.

Grace sighed deeply and sat back down.

Five minutes later, Luther came back into the room.

"Is that thing gone?" Grace asked contemptuously.

"Yes," Luther responded.

Grace sighed and used her thumb and forefinger to squeeze together the bridge of her nose a little. Luther's strong hands were caressing her shoulders in the next instant, and she sank back into his touch.

"That feels nice," Grace said with a sigh.

"It is not good for you to be so distressed, ma'am," he whispered, placing a little kiss behind her ear where he knew she liked it.

Grace smiled a little. During her long life, she'd had many lovers, some even while she was married to John—not that her husband ever knew about them. Luther was above average. It was a shame that he was in his thirties; she preferred men a little younger or a little older now. The "in between years" could be so awkward. However, since Stan Davis was no longer available to her and she didn't have time to explore other possibilities at the moment, Luther would have to do. Plus, he was very loyal to her and eager to please—and learn—and those were always good things.

"Luther, will you make sure that those lamps and the statue on the table are moved into another room before tomorrow evening," Grace said, pointing. "Just replace the lamps with those old ones from the blue bedroom," she added as she leaned forward a little so that Luther could get a better angle on her sore back muscles. "And the Renoir. I think I'd like it moved to my bedroom for a while. Just put the piece Sophie-Anne got me for Christmas in here for the time being."

"Of course, ma'am," he said, not asking questions.

That was certainly one of the many things Grace liked about Luther. He didn't question her. Normally, she wouldn't have chosen a head butler who was so young, but he'd been the nephew to her previous butler, who had died of a sudden heart attack. At the time, Luther was the under butler, and he'd been working in the household for five years. So it made sense to promote him.

"Make sure the other members of the household are at dinner promptly at 5:45 p.m. tomorrow—as always." Grace ran a tight ship, but she wanted to make sure that was doubly the case for the next day. "I want none of the others on the first floor," she added. "I have an important meeting with my grandson."

"Of course," he said.

"Eric will be arriving at 6:00 p.m. You will show him into this room and show any guards he brings with him into the east living room. Oh—and move the Matisse paintings out of there for the time being, too. Replace them with those red ones by that artist John liked. And make sure that you move everything that I have told you about discreetly. If anyone asks, just say that I wanted certain pieces to be professionally cleaned."

"Is there anything else you require?" Luther asked suggestively, his fingers moving down the fronts of Grace's shoulders.

"Yes—after you have settled Eric into here and his guards into the living room, go to the kitchen. A man will be entering the house at around 6:10 p.m. You are not to stop him from coming in; in fact, I will need you to allow him to incapacitate you," Grace said calmly.

Luther's fingers stopped only for a moment before resuming their downward trajectory until he was caressing the sides of her breasts.

"Oh?" he asked.

"Mmmm," Grace responded, arching her back a little. "Yes, the man is going to be doing a little job for me, and your injury will help to ensure that I am not implicated."

"Of course," Luther said, bending down to trail kisses over her cheek. "All will be ready."

Grace sighed happily at his touch. "Excellent. Now, I will need an hour or so to make a few arrangements, and then I will require your help with something in my private chambers."

"I am happy to serve you, ma'am," Luther said, placing one final kiss on her neck before straightening up.

"Oh—and Luther," Grace said, "be so kind as to have a nice bath waiting for me. I believe I would like to continue relaxing."

Luther leered at her. "I will have all prepared, ma'am."

Grace smiled as she watched the handsome man leave the room. Once the door closed behind him, the elegant woman went to the desk in the corner of the room—a room which had always been her favorite in the house—and pulled out one of the untraceable cell phones Stan had taught her about. The clever Senator and even cleverer lover had given her a lot of advice over the years when it came to discretion.

She sighed. Too many people knew about too many parts of her current plan, and that was intolerable to her. She probably ought not to have told Luther about a man attacking him the next evening, but—then again—she didn't want to risk him fighting off Compton, which was quite possible, given the fact that Luther could perform the role of body guard very well if required.

Plus, she really did want Luther to move some of the more valuable items out of the rooms where she was certain violence would take place the next day. After all, there were things that she didn't want ruined by blood or bullet holes. She smiled a little as she dialed the phone.

It was answered after a single ring.

"Hello?" came the gruff, questioning voice on the other end of the call.

"Sigebert, this is Mrs. Northman. How are you and your brother?" Grace asked.

"It is Wybert," the man responded.

"Oh well," Grace said. "You and your brother sound so much alike."

"It is okay, ma'am," Wybert said.

"I have some tasks for you and your brother," Grace said.

There was a pause. "I thought you wanted us to lie low for now," the man said.

"I do," Grace responded. "But these tasks wouldn't take up much of your time, and after they're done, I believe you should disappear for a while. Didn't you and your brother have a place in northern Canada?" she asked.

"Yes," Wybert responded.

"Excellent. I'll make sure that you have plenty of money for a nice long vacation there."

"Okay," he half-grunted.

Grace heard an exchange of voices on the other line, and a few moments later, a slightly less gruff voice spoke to her.

"Mrs. Northman?" Sigebert asked.

"Oh Sigebert," Grace said, thankful to be speaking to the smarter of the twins. "I was just telling your brother that I have some tasks for you to perform, and I will pay you generously for them."

"We are happy to help you in anything," Sigebert said. "Mr. Northman was such a good boss."

"Your loyalty to my son is greatly appreciated," Grace smiled, her sincerity clear in her tone. The "Berts" had been faithful to Appius for almost two decades. And she intended to reward them greatly for their loyalty. On the other hand, she had no intention of paying Compton or Michelle Stackhouse a dime.

"What do you need from us?" he asked.

"I need you to eliminate some annoyances for me tomorrow."

"Of course," Sigebert said casually, as if he'd not just been asked to kill people. "Who?"

"Eric is coming here tomorrow evening. He'll arrive at around 6:00 p.m."

"Do you need for us to kill him?" Sigebert asked excitedly. He obviously relished that possibility.

"No. I don't want to risk that being connected to me, and I have someone else in mind for that task—Bill Compton. I will need you to kill Eric's guards for me, and I need Wybert to take out Michelle Stackhouse. I'd prefer for Michelle to die between 4:30 p.m. and 5:00 p.m. so that her death can be blamed on Compton too. Bill is due here a little after 6:00 p.m. to take care of Eric."

"Understood," Sigebert said. "Where will Wybert find Michelle Stackhouse?"

"She's at the Element Hotel in Times Square—room 623."

"Got it," Sigebert said. "Will she be alone?"

"Yes," Grace responded. "I'll make sure of it. She believes that I am going to give her some money. I've told her that I'm sending someone with her payment at 4:30 p.m., and—given her greed—I'm sure she'll let him in without question. I have reason to believe that Compton has been in Michelle's room with her, so it should be easy enough to make it look like he's the guilty party."

"It won't be a problem," Sigebert assured. "Wybert will use something in the room to do it with and he'll keep things quiet. Where and when do you need me?" he asked.

"As I said, Eric will be here at 6:00 p.m., and Bill is going to be coming into the house through the kitchen at 6:10 p.m. or so. Most of the staff will be in the basement; however, Luther will be taking a bump on the head from Compton so that things look authentic." She paused. "Right after Bill enters my parlor to take care of Eric, I need you to take out his guards, who will be in the east first floor living room. You can be in there already waiting for them. There is a large Japanese screen in the corner of the room that would be ideal for you to hide behind. I'll contact you as soon as Bill enters the parlor, and then you can kill the guards immediately after that. Just make sure that you use a silencer."

"How many guards will there be?" Sigebert asked without missing a beat.

"One for sure. But I wouldn't be surprised if there are two. I wouldn't think there would be more. And I need it to look like Compton killed them too."

"Very well," Sigebert said. "I will use an untraceable weapon."

"Thank you," Grace said sincerely. "You don't know how much your willingness to help takes a burden off of my shoulders."

"Do you trust Compton to do the job with Eric?" Sigebert asked.

"He hates Eric and believes that he has incentive."

"Just believes?" Sigebert asked perceptively.

"Yes—in his delusional mind, he thinks that he'll be able to win back Eric's wife one day. He also believes I'm going to pay him a lot of money."

"But you aren't," Sigebert stated.

"No. I don't intend for him to leave my estate alive."

"So—I need to kill him too," Sigebert said.

"No," Grace returned. "I will take care of Compton. Then you will plant the gun you use on the guards onto Compton's body and leave."

There was a pause. "Mrs. Northman, I'd rather you not have to kill anyone yourself," Sigebert said.

"I know, dear," Grace said affectionately. She could hear the concern in the man's voice. "But it would be best if it looked like I killed him in self-defense—or better yet—like I did it to try to save Eric. Of course, it will be too late. But, for it to be convincing, I'll need to have gun powder on my hands—correct?"

There was another pause. "How about your man—Luther? Perhaps, he could take care of Compton."

"I considered that, but since Compton will be knocking him out, that's not possible."

"Tell Compton to wait to knock him out until after he leaves the house," Sigebert suggested.

"I considered that too, but if things are thwarted in some way, I need Luther's injury to corroborate my version of events."

Grace heard muffled voices as Sigebert talked about something with his brother. "Mrs. Northman," Sigebert said, "we will do what you ask. But the boss wouldn't have wanted you to get your hands dirty like that. After I do the guards, I'll wait for Bill outside the parlor and do him then. And—just in case I cannot do that—Wybert will be waiting outside the garden gate for Compton. Just tell Compton that you arranged for a getaway for him, and Wybert will do the rest."

Grace sighed. "I'd prefer that Compton die on the grounds and that it looked like I did it."

"That will be option number one, ma'am," Sigebert assured. "And don't worry. Once I kill Compton, I'll make sure that it looks like you did it before I leave through the garden gate. And if—for some reason—Wybert and I are caught, we will say that we were working with Compton. None of this will come back to you, ma'am."

Grace felt a lump rise in her throat. "Your loyalty is extremely commendable, Sigebert. It would also help if you implicated Freyda de Castro and Michelle Stackhouse—if you are caught."

"We will, ma'am," Sigebert said. "I will make sure Wybert understands and that we have the same story."

"You have been very good to me—and to Appius."

"I'd have done anything for the boss," Sigebert said. "If I would have known what he was planning to do in that hospital room, I'd have stayed right by his side through it all."

Grace wiped away a tear. "My son chose well when he chose you two. I will make sure you are well-rewarded."

"We don't need anything, ma'am," Sigebert said sincerely. "I'm just glad that we'll be able to help you."

"Thank you," Grace said again, the emotion thick in her voice. "Luther will be going out tomorrow at around noon to run a few errands; he'll meet up with you and bring you back in the car so that you can enter unseen. I'll have him call this number when he is ready to pick you up."

"I'll be waiting for his call," Sigebert said, obviously intending to hang up after those words.

"Sigebert," Grace said quickly, "my son was right to trust you and your brother so much."

"Thank you, ma'am," Sigebert replied before hanging up.

Grace sighed as she put the phone down. She'd use it once more to text Sigebert when Bill entered the parlor the next day, and then she'd hide it in one of the two secret panels in the room until Luther could dispose of it.

After all, she didn't like taking chances—even with an untraceable phone.

She was already taking a risk where Jason Stackhouse was concerned. Luckily, Michelle seemed to recognize that her son couldn't be trusted with secrets, and Michelle had assured Grace that Jason didn't know about their deal with Compton. Grace sighed. She was apt to believe the woman about Jason. While Michelle was certainly uncouth and had been unwise for visiting the estate during the daytime, she had also been clever enough to call Luther beforehand so that she could enter unseen.

Of course, Grace would have preferred it if she'd not come at all!

Grace smiled as she looked at the picture of Appius which was sitting on her desk. The photo had been taken when Appius was 18. In the image, he had an easy, carefree smile. It had always been Grace's favorite picture of her son. She shook her head as she brushed a tear from her eye. She picked up the picture, deciding to move it to her room in order to make sure it wasn't damaged.

"Goddamn you, Stella Larsson," she cursed quietly. Grace had come to despise Stella with every fiber of her being, and she hated herself for not stopping Appius's relationship with her when she could have done it. Appius had changed after he'd met Stella; he'd become wrapped up into her, and Stella had encouraged Appius in his baser urges. Grace shook her head again.

She—of course—had known that her son dallied with men, and even though she did not understand it, she had accepted it. However, she now blamed Stella for encouraging Appius in that direction. In fact, she hated her son's first wife for all that she'd done to Appius. Her illness and death had practically destroyed him. And then the evidence of her betrayal had annihilated him. After that, her beloved son had never been the same.

His eyes had lost the light that was so evident in the picture. That light had—quite literally—died with Stella and her betrayal.

Grace shook her head and brushed away another tear. She hated Eric too; he had been a constant reminder of Stella's betrayal—Appius's bane. And even finding out that Eric was Appius's son, after all, had not dulled Grace's hatred of him or his whore of a mother. Eric had remained a source of consternation for Appius, and her child had finally broken because of him.

And—for that—she would see Eric and his line destroyed, even if she had to give her own life to do it.


	36. My Strength, My Weakness

Chapter 36: My Strength, My Weakness

"My family is my strength and my weakness."

—Aishwarya Rai Bachchan

"So—how was your first full day back at the office?" Sookie asked as the elevator doors opened.

Eric didn't answer her question; instead, he stepped forward with purpose, took her into his arms, and gave her a kiss that showed her just how much he'd missed her that day.

She gave him no complaints and wrapped her arms around him tightly. Not caring about anything except touching his wife, Eric dropped his briefcase and coat, his arms going around her body and lifting her up. Sookie smiled against his lips as she wrapped her legs around him.

"You wore a skirt for me, min älskare," he growled as Sookie's full skirt drifted upward. He readjusted his grip so that his hands were under her bottom—her very naked bottom!

"Yes," she whispered into his ear before taking his earlobe into her mouth and sucking a little. "But I seem to have forgotten my panties." She slipped his suit coat from his shoulders and then loosened his tie.

"Where's Milos?" Eric groaned into his wife's neck as he grounded his erection against her, trying to get as much contact as possible considering the layers of fabric that still separated his cock from the heaven that it wanted to explore.

"Visiting Henry and Blake until further notice," she moaned as he placed nibbling kisses onto her chin and neck.

She began working on the buttons of his shirt, dragging her fingernails over his flesh as she went.

"Johan?" he asked with a grunt.

"Nap. I just put him down." She smiled a little wider. "Guess who didn't want to fall asleep without his daddy?"

Eric temporarily removed his lips from her body so that he could look at Sookie. "He wasn't upset—was he?" He'd been worried that their son might have a little separation anxiety.

"Not too bad," Sookie quickly assured moving her legs a little to get them more securely wrapped around his body.

He groaned at the friction.

Sookie giggled. "He was only a little fussy, and Mormor was here to help for a while. I think he was just trying to wait for you before he went to sleep, but he finally played himself out. He's a stubborn one."

Eric chuckled and resumed his kissing of his wife as he walked them toward their bedroom. He noticed that Johan wasn't in the portable crib next to their bed.

As if reading his thoughts, Sookie said, "I was hoping you wouldn't be too tired from work to play a little." She blushed.

"Never," he grinned at her reddened cheeks. "But . . . ," he stopped.

"But?"

He placed her gently onto the bed. "Hold that thought for just a second—okay?"

She raised an eyebrow in question but nodded.

Eric kissed her lightly on the lips and quickly went into his son's nursery next door. Johan was in a deep sleep, evidenced by the fact that he'd not fully kicked off his blanket yet; only his tiny toes were peeking out of it. Eric quietly leaned over and placed a soft kiss onto his son's head.

When he turned around, Sookie was leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on her lips.

"I love you so much, Eric Northman. And every day, you do about a hundred things that remind me of why."

He walked back over to her and took her hand, leading her back to their bedroom and closing the door softly behind him.

Once he had her back on the bed, he looked at her predatorily. She shivered under his gaze, and when he started to run his fingers lightly under her skirt, she shivered again.

"I have some other ways to remind you—ways that I've been contemplating all day," he said in a low voice as he dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. He pushed her skirt up, and in the next moment, he was tasting her with one long lick along her sex. He moaned into her sweet flesh.

"Oh God!" Sookie gasped, trying to be quiet, as he concentrated the efforts of his tongue on her clit and began to tease her entrance with his fingers.

"More!" she ordered with another whispered gasp.

Obediently, he worked one and then two fingers into her, moving them at a steady rhythm and curling them to elicit more moans from her. With his other hand, he moved her full skirt so that he could see her face and growled when he saw that she was looking at him, her eyes darkened by pleasure and desire. She'd also pulled the fabric of her blouse up and was biting on it to keep quiet.

"You are so fucking sexy," Eric whispered before quickening the pace of his digits and sucking on her clit. At that, she came undone, her yell muffled by the fabric of her shirt.

"How was that reminder, lover," Eric asked with a cocky leer as he stood to his feet and quickly divested himself of his shoes and pants.

"Not bad," she said, still panting, "but my memory's not so good. I think I need more."

"Then more you shall have," he said, removing her skirt. Friskily, he flipped her body over and lifted her hips up a little so that he could enter her while he was still standing next to the bed."

"Oh fuck!" Sookie cursed with pleasure as he filled her with one stroke.

"Shhh. The baby's asleep and the monitor is on," Eric whispered playfully, bending his tall, lanky body over hers and kissing her neck.

She looked over her shoulder to glare at him and then stifled a moan as he pulled his length almost all the way out of her—excruciatingly slowly.

"That feels so good," she half-whispered and half-groaned.

He moaned loudly when only his tip was inside of her.

"Shhh. Remember that you have to be quiet too, Mr. Northman," she said with a little smirk.

He nodded, concentrating on doing just that as he buried himself to the hilt once more.

Soon, they were both finding out just how difficult being quiet could be as his pace quickened and she began to move so that she was meeting him thrust for thrust. It wasn't long before they were both mumbling incoherently as her orgasm became the catalyst for his.

Completely spent and unable to stay on his feet anymore, Eric fell onto the bed next to her. He lay on his back, his legs dangling over the side of the bed.

Sookie managed to crawl over to him. "Mmm, that was good," she murmured as she kissed his chest over his still-thundering heart.

"Yes," he panted his agreement. "Wanna do it again?" he asked, his lips curving upwards into a smirk.

She giggled. "You're incorrigible."

He pulled her closer. "We have a lot of time to make up for," he said, his eyebrows waggling. "And I'm afraid that I was so anxious to taste you and to be inside of you that I completely neglected some of my favorite parts of you," he added as he began to caress her breasts over her blouse.

"That was very naughty of you," she gasped out even as she moved aside his unbuttoned shirt and then took one of his nipples into her mouth. She nibbled a little, and Eric felt his cock stirring once more to life. However, before he could properly pay homage to every inch of his wife's body, his son interrupted their play with a loud cry.

The simultaneous reaction from Eric and Sookie was a cross between a groan and a chuckle.

"I'll get him," Sookie said, sitting up and quickly pulling her skirt back on. "Why don't you get into comfy clothes while I change his diaper? And then you can take him while I get cleaned up a little."

"Sounds like a plan," Eric said before kissing her lightly on the lips. "But don't think I'm not planning on continuing this later."

"Oh—I won't let you forget," she returned flirtatiously as she got up to go see to Johan's needs.

Eric smiled widely as he watched his wife go into the nursery. He'd missed the hell out of Sookie and Johan that day, but he'd enjoyed being back at the office after doing most of his work from home for the last several months.

And it had been an extremely productive day. He'd met with Guo Li, and they'd expanded their partnership. He'd also met with the team designing the new electronic pad, which would soon be the exclusive electronic medium for the NP catalog.

He'd shored up Northman Publishing's domestic partnerships and had contacted its most profitable authors in order to assure them that—though there had been changes in leadership—the excellent services that the publishing giant had always offered its clients would remain in place and/or be augmented.

However, no matter how good the day had been, a large part of Eric had wanted to leave the office as soon as he got there and return to his family. He sighed, knowing that Johan wasn't the only one who'd have to learn to adjust to their being apart for nine to ten hours a day, three days a week. He smiled. At least, in working from home for part of the week, he'd not have to be without Sookie and Johan more than that.

Eric rose from the bed, finished undressing, and went into the bathroom to clean up a little. That done, he scooped up his discarded suit as he headed to the closet. Quickly, he put on a fresh pair of boxer-briefs, a T-shirt, and a pair of flannel sleep pants. He dropped his used underwear and dress shirt into the laundry basket and put away his tie before taking his phone out of his suit pants.

As soon as it was in his hand, it rang. He didn't recognize the number, and the name on his caller ID read "unknown," so he didn't pick up, knowing that if it was important, the caller would leave a message. Just as he was entering the nursery, his phone beeped, but he didn't check the message right away since his son had spotted him and was already excitedly reaching out for him.

Eric chuckled as he took Johan from Sookie.

"Our next one better be a momma's girl or boy," Sookie giggled as she watched Johan smile and laugh as he found himself in his father's arms.

Eric grinned widely, still amazed by the sound of his son's laughter. Johan's first "real" laugh had been about a month before, but the noise still surprised and thrilled Eric.

"Who was on the phone?" Sookie asked as she put away the tiny socks she'd been contemplating putting onto Johan's feet. By then, Eric and she both knew that their son didn't like to have his feet covered at all. In that way, he was just like Eric. Of course, Sookie still tried to put socks on him when the house was cool—though it was a losing battle now that Johan had "discovered" his feet and had learned to pull on his socks.

"I didn't recognize the number," Eric said, bouncing Johan in his arms a little, "but whoever it was left a message. I'll check it in a minute," he added as he dipped Johan, causing the delighted child to giggle again.

Sookie smiled at her boys. "Why don't you two go set the table for dinner? There's chili in the crockpot." She leaned over to give Johan a quick kiss on the cheek and then rose onto her tiptoes to do the same to Eric. "I'll join you in a few—as soon as I've cleaned myself up and called Milos to tell him that it's safe to come up for dinner."

Eric nodded and kissed her in return before taking his son into what used to be the "gray part" of the house. In addition to Johan's nursery, which had been constructed at the end of the house next to his and Sookie's room, the rest of that part of the house had been renovated too, though the playroom still wasn't quite finished.

Instead of the long gray space, there were now three separate rooms. Next to Johan's nursery was a living area, dominated by the most comfortable couch Eric had ever sat on. The large sectional was the perfect vessel to hold Sookie, Johan, and himself—whether it was naptime or playtime or story time. Ironically, the sectional was gray, but that was the only thing similar to the room's previous incarnation. Instead of being carpeted, the floor was now a beautiful, richly colored wood. Sookie had chosen soft blue area rugs. There was a flat screen television mounted on the wall, though it was usually on only when Johan was watching the Baby Einstein videos his Aunt Pam had gotten for him.

The room was now warm and welcoming, rather than cold and "expensive" looking. And Johan loved to look out the windows and be out on the terrace when it was warm enough. Eric imagined that—with each new day—his son saw more and more of the world.

Beyond the living room was a dining room. The new table sat only six, though a few more chairs could be crowded in if the group for poker night became larger than that. Sookie had chosen a dining room set with a pop of color—in the form of orange chairs—and Eric had fallen in love with her choice for its uniqueness. Sookie and he had thought about getting a larger dining room set, but they both preferred smaller gatherings, and there was a humongous dining room at Niall's estate in the Hamptons, where their entire family and expanding network of friends could gather for holidays.

Eric smiled. He wouldn't have imagined three years ago that he'd be the kind of person who would have people over to his house a lot; however, he and Sookie had company a couple of times a week now. Amelia had basically moved in with Pam, and Henry and Blake came up for dinner a few times a month. Bobbie and Thalia were also frequent visitors. And—of course—Milos often ate dinner with them too since he'd become their full-time live-in guard.

Miranda was guarding Eric when he went to the office. She also took on many of the weekend guarding duties when Eric and Sookie went out—though, with Compton at large, their trips out had been limited to their weekly visits to the MET.

"So, Joe," Eric said to the little boy in his arms, using the nickname that "Uncle Bobby" had initiated, "do you want to help Daddy set the table?"

Johan gurgled happily in his father's arms as Eric added a little bounce to his step and started gathering dishes with the hand he wasn't using to stabilize his son. Eric chuckled as Ned appeared as if from thin air. The adolescent cat seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to dinner time.

Eric bent down so that Johan could see Ned. As always, the cat looked at the infant with equal parts trepidation and curiosity. And the child, eyes wide with never-ending fascination for the little creature, half-giggled and half-gurgled in Ned's direction.

Figuring that things were "safe," Ned came forward to receive a pat from Eric and rubbed against Johan's hand while he was at it—much to the glee of the infant. Eric decided that cat and child bonding was more important than table setting for the moment and had a seat on the floor to give them better access to each other.

When Sookie came in a few minutes later, the three were still together on the floor, Ned rubbing back and forth against the two humans and Johan waving his arms in excitement. She couldn't help but to laugh at the three "men" in her life.

"Having fun?" she asked, joining them on the floor and leaning against Eric's side.

"Yeah," Eric said with a smile. "I'll set the table in a minute. We got a little side-tracked."

"I can see why," Sookie said as Ned started including her in his "rubbing circuit."

"Hey guys," Milos said from the kitchen door.

Without prompting, he took the dishes that Eric had set out and started getting the table ready for dinner.

"Thanks, Milos," Eric and Sookie said together.

"No problem," the guard said. "I'll do anything that gets me to chili faster," he joked.

Eric chuckled as he got up and reached down to offer Sookie a hand. Once they were on their feet, Eric got Johan settled into his bouncy chair, where he would likely content himself throughout their dinner, while Sookie brought out the food.

Later, as Eric helped Sookie load the dishwasher—even as Johan squirmed merrily in his arms—Eric's phone rang again. It was the same number as before, and this time he decided to answer it.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Eric," came a voice that both surprised Eric and made him nervous. Immediately, Sookie noticed her husband's change of demeanor and looked at him with curiosity.

"Grandmother," Eric responded. "Um—it's nice to hear from you," he said almost as if he were asking a question. "Can I help you with anything?"

For the first time Eric could remember, his paternal grandmother spoke to him in a congenial tone. "I just wanted to call to say thank you," Grace said.

"You're calling to thank me?" Eric asked with surprise.

"Yes. The ownership of the house. It was," she paused, "kind of you to give it to me, especially after everything that has happened and the way I treated you and your wife at Christmas."

"I would never kick you out of your home," Eric said softly, even as he held his son a little tighter in his arms. Sookie, sensing that Eric needed her to be close as well, moved so that she was leaning against him. He smiled at her appreciatively.

"Eric, I misjudged you," Grace said apologetically. "And—perhaps—I misjudged your father too." There was a pause. "There are things that I need to," she paused again, "atone for. And—if it's not too late, I want to be your grandmother and know your child and your wife."

Eric was stunned into silence for a moment. "You do?" he asked in a voice that was almost childlike.

"Yes," she responded sincerely and without hesitation. "I know it will take you a while to trust me—for me to earn your trust. But when you signed over the house to me, I realized that Appius had been incredibly wrong about you. Moreover, I realized that I have been incredibly cruel to you too, but I," she paused, "want to make things up to you—if you are generous enough to allow me the chance. I would very much like to have a relationship with you."

"Okay," Eric said a little tentatively. "I'd like that too."

"That makes me happier than I can say," Grace said.

Eric could hear the smile in his grandmother's voice, and he smiled too.

"Me too," he said.

"If you are available, I would like to see you tomorrow—to give you some things that I think your grandfather John would have wanted for you to have. There is also a letter that he left for you, but—in my folly and to my shame—I have withheld it from you for all these years. You deserve to have it, Eric. You deserve so much better than I have given you." She sighed. "I'm so sorry that I didn't give you the letter before. You deserve to know how proud John was of you. And—I want you to know how proud I am of the man you have become too."

"You are?" Eric asked.

"Yes," Grace responded with fervor. "When you were born, it was one of the happiest days of my life. I admit that I lost sight of that once Appius became convinced that you were not his son. I wanted to support my child, but—in doing so—I hurt you," she said with regret. "My only defense is that I loved my son and would have done anything for him. Now that you have a son of your own, you know the lengths you would go to for him."

"Yes," Eric agreed.

"I know that it is short notice, but I would like for you to come over to the house tomorrow at 6:00 p.m.—if that is convenient for you. And perhaps you could bring my great-grandson?" she asked hopefully. "I'd love to meet him."

"Um," Eric said, "I'd like that. And Sookie?"

"If you don't mind, I would like it to be just me, you, and Johan tomorrow evening," Grace said. "I'd like to wait to invite Sookie over; I want to have ample time to get to know her, but I'll be leaving day after tomorrow for my annual trip to my sister's home in California, so I will have to retire early. I just," she paused, "don't want to put off seeing you—and apologizing to you in person. I don't want to wait another day!" Grace paused as she seemed to be stifling a sob. "I would like for tomorrow to be about you and me, though—I must say—I do wish to meet your son. Nora showed me a picture of him, and he looks very much like you.

"Yes," Eric said. "That's what Sookie says."

"Will you come, Eric?" Grace asked, his voice pleading. "I know that I am asking a lot of you. And I know that I don't deserve your forgiveness yet, but I would like to have hope before I leave for California."

Eric was silent for a moment. "I will be there, but I think it would be best to wait to introduce you to Johan until Sookie is there as well."

"That's fine," Grace said, though she sounded a little disappointed. "And thank you."

"I'm glad you called," Eric said.

"Me too," Grace responded. "And, Eric?"

"Yes?"

"I love you. I have loved you since the day you were born," Grace said sincerely.

A tear flowed down Eric's cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, Grandmother."

"I'm already looking forward to it," she said before hanging up.

Grace smiled sinisterly as she hung up the phone with her grandson. The conversation had gone just as she'd known it would. In fact, she'd never had any doubts that she could draw Eric to her home the next day.

Over the years, Appius had told her the two keys to his control over Eric. All he had to do when the boy seemed likely to rebel was one of two things. He could either threaten something or someone Eric loved or dangle the possibility of acceptance over his head.

Grace had chosen the latter, and Eric had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. She was disappointed only that the child wouldn't accompany the father, but she had time to deal with Johan; there were many more years before he came of age.

Feeling confident that the next day would go just as she wanted, Grace went up to her bedroom suite. There was a young man waiting to wash her back, after all.


	37. A Cry in the Dark

Chapter 37: A Cry in the Dark

"I don't want you to do this," Sookie said firmly.

"I know," Eric said for the thousandth time. "I don't want to do it either, but I have to." He sighed. "I could be wrong—you know? This feeling that I have—it could be nothing. Grace could be sincere."

Sookie shook her head. "Or she could be baiting you with promises of acceptance; it could be some kind of trap—emotional or otherwise," she said, stroking his cheek with her fingers.

"I know," he said.

The couple was a block and a half from the home that had belonged to the Northman family since the 1880s. Agent Batanya had given them a moment of privacy in the back of the FBI van that was acting as the command center for the operation that was about to occur.

As a precaution, Eric had already been fitted with a wire and a bulletproof vest. When he'd gotten off the phone with his grandmother the night before, he'd been hopeful for a reconciliation. However, he'd woken up during the early hours of the morning due to Johan's loud crying and yelling. His son had never cried like that before—never. It had taken Eric more than two hours to calm him down—so long that he'd thought about calling the doctor. However, Johan had had no fever.

He'd seemed physically fine. If anything, it seemed as if the tiny child had been awoken by a nightmare. As Eric had walked him around the house over and over again, his own mind had revisited his phone conversation with his grandmother. And as he'd replayed it again and again, something began to nag at him: possibility.

Appius used to lure him in—to control him—with the possibility of love and acceptance. And Eric had always gravitated toward that possibility like a moth to a flame. Could Grace be doing the same thing? Could she be trying to manipulate him—to hurt him emotionally and/or physically? Could her promises of reconciliation and love be as toxic as his father's had been? Could she be as lethal—as suicidal or as homicidal—as he had been in the end?

Or was she being sincere?

He sighed. His grandmother had spent years showing him nothing but coldness and derision. He wanted to believe—desperately wanted to believe—that she was contrite.

And that she loved him.

However, as he worked to calm Johan, he recalled his own recent nightmares, which involved memories of his father holding his child and his wife at gunpoint. They involved searing pain from gunshot wounds tearing through his flesh—tearing through their flesh.

By the time Johan had settled down, Eric knew two things for sure. First, he was going to give Grace a chance—even though she didn't deserve his forgiveness. He needed to do it for himself more than for her. Second, he didn't trust Grace; he wouldn't trust her.

For hours after the child had finally drifted back to sleep, Eric had held Johan in the rocking chair he'd built with his own hands.

And he'd let his mind drift.

The previous Sunday—the day after the NP party—he and Sookie had visited the MET. Since Bill had been spotted in the area the night before, they'd left Johan with Mormor and Niall, who were still staying with Claudine. But they'd not wanted to skip their Saturday, and they'd slipped into the museum unseen thanks to Ben. Miranda had shadowed them, and Ben had sent a guard to do the same.

Their gallery for the week had been number 231, which was full of Japanese art, including many prints.

Eric had liked the clear lines of the art, while Sookie had enjoyed the whimsical nature of some of the pieces. Their favorite piece had been "Various Moths and Butterflies," a woodblock print by Kubo Shunman.

Since they didn't want to risk being out in the open in the park, Ben had let them eat lunch in an empty gallery, where they shared what they knew about the differences between moths and butterflies. Sookie knew that moths tended to be nocturnal, while butterflies were diurnal, meaning that they were active during the day. Eric knew that moths tended to spread their wings while at rest, while butterflies normally rested with their wings folded together. Using their phones, they'd read more about the differences between moths and butterflies. Sookie had giggled when Eric told her that he thought she was a butterfly, while he was a moth.

Sitting with Johan and looking out the window toward the Hudson, Eric felt acutely like a moth. He'd always left his wings open—left himself exposed to the volleys of his enemies. And Grace had been his enemy—just as much as Appius had—for more than a quarter of a century.

Had she stopped being an enemy? Eric realized it didn't matter.

Regardless of Grace's motives, it was time for him to close his wings—to protect himself and to enfold his family in safety. It was time for him to snuff out the flame, instead of to touch it.

That realization had led him to call Kate Batanya at 4:00 a.m., and that call had led Sookie and him to where they were now.

Sookie squeezed his hand. "I don't want you to go in there," she reiterated. "I can't lose you."

He sighed and laid his hand against her cheek. "I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. But this all needs to end—one way or another. I don't want us to be afraid for the rest of our lives. I don't want Bill Compton to hang over us like a specter. And if my grandmother is helping him—though God knows I hope she's not—then that needs to end too."

"I almost lost you once," Sookie whispered. "I won't do it again. I can't."

"That's why I have this on," Eric said, tapping the vest that was concealed under his suit. "And that's why Kate has agents watching the house from all angles."

"I know, but," Sookie stopped for a moment and stifled a sob, "what if Grace does something to hurt you before Kate can get inside? I need you. Our son needs you."

"And you'll have me," Eric promised. "Anyway, this might be much ado about nothing—just my overactive imagination."

Sookie shook her head. "I don't think that's true."

"I don't either," he admitted. "The only thing that's been too good to be true in my life is sitting in front of me."

Sookie leaned forward and kissed him as if it might be the last time she would ever see him.

For a fleeting moment, Eric wondered if it would be. When they finally pulled away from each other, he just looked at her, wondering if he should take the risk at all. But seeing his wife's beautiful face looking at him with fear-filled eyes, he knew that the risk was worth taking. Whatever happened to him, he needed to be assured of one thing: that neither Grace nor Bill nor anyone else could purposely harm Sookie—or their child.

Eric closed his eyes. Grace had wanted him to bring Johan. Thus, if harm was her intent, then his tiny son had been one of her targets. And if that was the case, then Eric was determined to take the bitch out of the equation once and for all! Or—if Grace had, indeed, changed her ways—then he owed it to his child to heal the remaining rifts in their family.

"I'm going to be okay," he promised his wife, trying to will truth into his words. "Miranda and Milos are going in there with me, and Kate will be only a heartbeat away."

Sookie pulled his hand over her own heart. "You aren't a heartbeat away from me, Eric," she said. "My heart is you."

"As you are mine," he whispered, placing her other hand over his heart. "It will be okay, Sookie. I'm not going to leave you or Johan."

"Okay," she whimpered. "Just be careful, and if your phone buzzes," she started.

"I'll duck and cover," he said, trying to smirk.

"You'd better," she ordered.

"I will."

As Eric left the van, Sookie closed her eyes and prayed that no lives would be lost—that Eric would be safe. That Grace was telling the truth and meant them no harm.

She had no way of knowing that it was already too late for God to answer her first prayer. And—in mere moments—her second prayer would be denied too, for Grace did mean him harm and her husband would be anything but safe.

There were 86,400 seconds in a day—86,400 moments in which a life could be taken. On Tuesday, January 14, 2014, six entwined individuals took lives. Two killed out of loyalty. One killed out of duty. Two were motivated to kill out of hatred. And one killed for love. However, no matter how pure or impure the motive, it didn't change the fact that six people stopped breathing that crisp January day.

The first died at second number 57,900.

The second was lost at second number 65,460.

The next was gunned down at second number 65,463.

Another died at second number 65,821.

The fifth was killed at second number 65,890.

And the last fell dead onto the cold marble floor of Grace Northman's foyer at second number 65,941.


	38. A Matter of Seconds, Part 1

Chapter 38: A Matter of Seconds, Part 1

[APPROXIMATELY TWO HOURS BEFORE THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER]

4:03 p.m., January 14

MICHELLE POV

Michelle didn't know the name of Grace's "delivery boy," nor did she care. All she cared about was the briefcase in his hands. Her money!

Bill could keep his offshore accounts. Michelle wanted to see and feel her new fortune in her own hands.

"Mrs. Stackhouse?" the man asked as she let him into her hotel room. She glanced down to the hallway to make sure that no one was watching and then closed the door.

"Yes. That's me," she responded. "You got my money?"

"I do," the man said.

Michelle smirked and turned to point to the desk. "Put it there. You can wait while I count it."

Before Michelle could turn back around to look at the man, she felt something rough and hard being pulled around her neck.

The cigarette she'd been holding fell from her hand as she automatically tried to put her fingers under the strap around her throat. However, she couldn't manage to take away the pressure.

She felt like she was sinking into quicksand as she realized that the breath in her body was waning. She was dying! She couldn't believe that she was fucking dying!

Her eyes widened as if she were trying to take in air through them.

Her efforts to stop her attacker failed and then waned.

Her ability to maintain coherent thoughts escaped her.

But the last of them was a flash of her mother, looking at her with hot, hate-filled eyes.

And that was how Michelle was welcomed into hell.

5:55 p.m., January 14

BILL POV

Bill Compton had left a very satisfied Michelle Stackhouse at about 10:00 o'clock that morning. She was not her daughter, but for the time being, she was sufficient to satisfy his carnal needs. And she was useful; she'd introduced him to Grace Northman, after all. Michelle had been in New York since it had been revealed that Sookie—no Susanna—had married and had a child with Eric Northman.

Bill scoffed. He was done with this "Sookie" nonsense. He'd decided that one of the first things he would do when they were together again would be to convince her to go back to using her real name—instead of some ridiculous nickname he'd never heard until Northman had come into the picture.

He knew that Susanna would go along with his wishes—just as she always had when they were first together.

When she was unspoiled.

He smiled at that thought.

He just hoped that Susanna would be "understanding" when he explained why he'd had to get Lorena out of the way. Bill planned to tell Sookie that it had been Lorena's idea to kill Northman and Johan. Bill would say that he—not Lorena—had been the one with the crisis of conscience. He also planned to blame Grace Northman for her grandson's death. He currently carried two guns. One was an untraceable weapon with which he intended to kill Northman and frame Grace. The second was his service weapon, which he planned to use to kill Grace.

It was a shame that he wouldn't be getting the money Grace had promised to wire to his offshore account following the successful execution of the plan that the Northman matriarch wanted him to carry out. However, Bill had his priorities straight, and Sookie was more important than money.

Plus, Michelle was probably getting her share of the payoff even as he was waiting for Northman to show up at his grandmother's house. Michelle had already given him enough cash to help him get started with his new life, and he knew that he could manipulate her or blackmail her to be the source for more money in the future—if he needed it.

Undeniably, Michelle had been very crafty in procuring an income for herself, in addition to the money she was receiving from Grace Northman. About once a week, Michelle would pop up on a gossip television program to weigh in on something going on with Eric or Susanna or Freyda de Castro. And for these appearances, she was well paid. In fact, she was scheduled to appear on a show the next afternoon.

Bill smirked, knowing that money was about to be a non-issue for both him and Michelle—thanks to the Brigant fortune. Susanna—once Eric Northman was dead and he had been cleared of any wrongdoing—would surely ask him to help her to manage her fortune. After all, she would not understand how to behave like a proper heiress without him.

Michelle had long since sent Jason back to Louisiana so that he could enroll in college. One condition of the Brigant estate was that Jason wouldn't inherit his money until he finished a college degree. Of course, Michelle had encouraged her son to do just that—and quickly.

However, Michelle had enjoyed the limelight and her D-list status in New York too much to leave the city. And Bill had been grateful for that—especially two nights before when he'd had nowhere else to go after being forced to kill Lorena.

In the end, Lorena had surprised Bill and had proven to be soft as she refused to be the one to kill Northman's child—which was all he'd asked her to do!

On a rooftop across from the MET, Bill had lain in wait for Eric Northman all day the Saturday before, perched in a perfect position to take him out. Grace had arranged for him to gain access to the building, and he'd found the perfect "nest" in which to wait for the kill shot. However, Lorena had fucked everything up! She had called him approximately ninety minutes before Northman and Susanna were due to arrive at the NP party. She'd threatened to go to the police—to tell them his plans and his location—if he didn't meet her in Central Park right then. He'd had to leave his prime position and his sniper's rifle behind in order to go to her. And when Lorena had accosted him and accused him of wanting to take out Eric and Johan only in order to have a free path to Sookie, Bill had had to eliminate her much sooner—and much more publicly—than he'd planned to.

Bill sighed. Thankfully, Michelle had offered him sanctuary—in more ways than one.

In fact, he'd been buried in one of her sanctuaries just that morning. His cock twitched at that memory and he smirked. Michelle's skills in bed almost made him want to rethink which of the Stackhouse women he wanted.

Almost.

He looked at his watch. He'd been inside the gate of Grace Northman's estate for more than ten hours, hiding in what seemed to be the abandoned chauffeur's apartment above the garage and waiting for it to be 6:10 p.m., his appointed time to enter the home and to kill Eric Northman once and for all.

Bill was a very patient man, and he'd learned over the years that it was best to be at a location early—well before he was expected to be there—to get the lay of the land and to observe things. From his vantage point, he'd seen a couple of employees doing some work outside on the brisk January day, and he'd also seen Sigebert, one of Appius's guards, entering the building.

That fact had prompted Bill to call Grace Northman, who'd indicated that she'd brought in Appius's ex-employee to take out whatever guards Northman brought with him that evening. Bill couldn't help but to be grateful for Grace's foresight. When the elderly woman had expressed curiosity in how Bill had known about Sigebert being there, he'd hung up. Bill had learned that it was best to keep people guessing about how one had obtained information.

He looked at his watch. It was almost 6:00 p.m. Soon he would complete his first hurdle in securing Susanna once more, and—this time—he wouldn't let her go once he had her.

5:59 p.m., January 14

MILOS POV

Milos gave Miranda a curt nod. He knew exactly what he was expected to do that day. Like Eric and Miranda, he'd been fitted with a bulletproof vest, so he understood the danger of his situation.

However, despite that, he didn't regret leaving the MET and becoming a personal guard for the Northman family.

Milos smiled a little. Almost two years before, Eric and Sookie had become a kind of "fabled" couple at the MET, and Milos had witnessed their love grow there. However, during the time that he'd worked for them, he'd realized that they weren't a couple from the storybooks. They were—at heart—simple people, who just wanted the chance to love each other and raise a family. They were good people, and he had grown to think of them as family. And family was something that Milos appreciated.

Most of his own family lived in Southern Italy near Bovalino where his grandparents had made their home after leaving Sicily. He had quite a few aunts and uncles and many more cousins still there. His own parents had moved to the United States shortly after they'd gotten married. They'd had his older brother Dino about a year after that. Milos had come along ten years later.

Sadly, Milos didn't remember his mom. She'd died in a bus accident when he was only two. Milos's dad, an enterprising businessperson and a wonderful chef, had taken over the raising of the children. He still owned and operated two successful restaurants in New York—one in the Bronx and one in Brooklyn. Milos's brother and his nephews and nieces helped out with the family businesses, and Dino would likely take over the business soon.

However, Milos had opted to do something else with his life and, with his father's blessing, had joined the army at age 18. The MET job had come about by chance right after Milos decided that twelve years as a grunt was enough for him. A friend of his who worked there mentioned that the museum was hiring security guards, and he'd started working for Ben on his 31st birthday. At 36, he'd been glad to have another change in his life, and getting the offer to be the Northmans' personal guard had occurred at just the right moment—when his long term girlfriend, a woman he'd lived with for four years, told him that she wanted to end their relationship.

By the time Eric Northman asked Ben if he had any suggestions for whom to pick as a personal guard, Milos had become restless because of the stationary nature of his work at the museum. Sitting at a desk and patrolling galleries was not an ideal job anymore—though it had been good right after he'd left the army and returned from Iraq. However, though he loved the people he worked with, he'd become, for lack of a better phrase, "bored as hell" at the MET.

Of course, much of his time with Eric and Sookie wasn't very exciting either, but when it wasn't, he'd been able to work on the college degree he'd decided to earn online. He'd also gotten close to Henry, Rasul, Trey, Calvin, Terry, Alcide, and the other security staff at Carmichael Tower. And Miranda, who had become the Northmans' second private guard following the Appius incident at the hospital, had become like a sister to him, and her husband, Jarod, who was also a guard at Carmichael Tower, was fun to be around too.

And it wasn't as if Milos sat around and did nothing all day! On the contrary, when he wasn't shadowing Eric and/or Sookie, his time was his own. In addition to doing his schoolwork, he also spent quite a bit of time in the building's state of the art gym where he'd met a nice woman who was a personal trainer. They'd begun dating about two months before, and so far, the relationship looked to be on the right track.

Eric turned slightly and gave Milos a nervous look.

Milos smiled at his charge, trying to convey that all would be well.

Eric gave Milos a grateful nod.

His senses heightened, Milos kept his steady pace so that he was walking slightly behind Eric, though he was ready to jump in front of him if need be. Both his army experience and his time at the museum had taught him to be vigilant. It still irked him that Appius Northman, Franklin Mott, and one of the "Berts" had gotten the jump on him at the hospital in the Hamptons. And, though Eric and Sookie didn't blame him for Eric's being shot, Milos blamed himself and was determined to make up for it.

Miranda was walking right next to him. Henry had wanted to come in with Eric too, but Sookie had asked the ex-Navy SEAL to watch over Johan. Miranda was also ex-military; she'd been in the Coast Guard for years. And Milos had come to respect her very much. Hell—from their occasional sparring in the gym at Carmichael Tower—he knew that she could kick his ass!

Milos held his breath as they approached the imposing front entrance of the Northman Estate. Knowing that they had back-up, his and Miranda's job at Grace Northman's house that evening was to keep Eric from immediate harm; however, they weren't a hundred percent sure that he was even in danger. Most of what they were doing was based on a hunch Eric had. But Milos didn't question his employer's hunches. They proved true more often than not.

Milos looked down at a newly received text, even as Eric rang the doorbell.

Eric looked at him.

"Two in the parlor, one in the first floor living room, one above the garage, and six in the basement," Milos whispered to both Eric and Miranda, giving them an update about where the people on the property were located. Agent Batanya had devices pointed at the property that were capturing the heat signatures of those inside. Another text came in. "One of the people that was in the parlor is headed this way," Milos added.

Eric nodded and turned to face the door again.

6:00 p.m., January 14

SIGEBERT POV

Sigebert heard the doorbell. He was already in place in the living room. Now all he had to do was wait for Eric's guards to enter the room.

Just as the boss's mother had suggested, he was waiting behind a huge, eight-foot-tall and six-foot wide, hand-painted Japanese folding screen. It depicted a group of cranes, and Sigebert had been told that it could be easily replaced. Still, Sigebert hoped to be able to spare the piece when he killed the guard or guards who would be with Northman.

Sigebert was crouched down behind the large structure, and from his vantage point, he could clearly see the door to the room through the crack between two of the panels. He'd already determined that he was going to kill the guards before he was notified of Compton's arrival. After all, a couple of minutes one way or another wouldn't matter. He'd secured a silencer for his untraceable weapon in order to accomplish his goal quietly.

As soon as Grace had texted him that Compton had accomplished his mission to kill Eric, Sigebert would move to wait outside of the parlor, and Compton wouldn't make it two steps out of the room before he was dead. The gun he would be using on Compton, unfortunately, didn't have a silencer. However, it was registered to Grace and was in excellent working order. After Compton went down, he and Grace would both have to move quickly.

He had already prepped Grace about what he needed her to do. She would have to move to Sigebert's location in the foyer and quickly fire the gun—preferably into the wall closest to where Compton had fallen dead. As if she were in shock, Grace was to keep the gun in her hands until the police found her. When they arrived, she was to surrender the weapon to them immediately.

And—when they asked—she was to tell them her story. She would say that she'd left Eric in the parlor in order to go check with Luther about the refreshments she'd ordered. There, she'd found her butler unconscious, so she'd grabbed the gun kept in the kitchen. She would tell the cops that she'd been afraid for Eric and had been returning to the parlor when she'd heard something that sounded like a "pop" and then someone falling. She was to conclude her story by saying that she'd caught Bill fleeing from the parlor and that he'd had a gun. She was to admit to firing her own weapon two times.

Of course, Sigebert was wearing gloves, so his fingerprints wouldn't be on Grace's weapon. Thus, the evidence would fit Grace's story perfectly.

After Grace discharged the weapon, Sigebert was going to make sure Bill's fingerprints were on the gun he'd used to kill Eric's guards. Then Sigebert would plant that weapon next to the screen he was hiding behind and then slip out the patio door—before the commotion brought Grace's servants up from the basement. Then he would leave through the broken garden gate and meet up with Wybert.

Sigebert checked the time on his phone: 6:01 p.m.—almost show time. Before he put the phone away, he noticed a text from Wybert. It said two words: "In position."

Wybert had called an hour before to inform him that Michelle Stackhouse was no more. The woman had been more than willing to open the door to Wybert since she'd thought he was delivering money to her. Wybert had spotted a man's belt hanging over a chair, and that's what he'd used to silence Michelle Stackhouse for good.

Though Wybert wasn't clever in all things, he'd done his fair share of killing before Appius had employed them. And he'd made sure to crouch a little so that it would seem as if Michelle had been strangled by someone shorter—someone Bill's height.

Wybert had been in Michelle's hotel room for no more than three minutes, and he'd managed to avoid the video cameras he'd seen monitoring the lobby and the elevators.

Grace had been pleased to hear about Michelle's demise and even more pleased to learn that—since the maid service had already been through Michelle's room that day—the woman's corpse would likely not be found until the next day at around 10:00 a.m. By then, Sigebert and Wybert would be in Canada—if all had gone to plan.

Bill himself had become a slight problem right after Wybert had called. Bill had phoned Grace to tell her that he knew Sigebert was inside the house. Luckily, Bill had accepted the explanation that Sigebert was there only to take out Northman's guards; however, the idiot had needed to be convinced not to enter the house until his appointed time. It was imperative that Bill seem to be following Eric—not preceding him. Otherwise, Grace would be implicated! Thankfully, the nimrod had agreed to stay put and out of sight, though—if he'd seen Sigebert—he was already somewhere on the grounds.

Sigebert sighed at the idiocy of Compton and smiled at the fact that he'd be able to put a bullet into his head soon enough.

Sigebert checked his watch again. It was 6:02 p.m. He was glad that Wybert had texted to let him know that he was in position. At 6:20 p.m., Wybert would move from his current position, which was about three blocks away, to the back gate. There, he would be waiting in the van they'd secured to get them the fuck out of Manhattan!

6:00 p.m., January 14

KATE POV

Kate Batanya had ten good agents ready to converge onto Grace Northman's estate—and she'd had to argue for every fucking one of them since her superior wasn't convinced that Eric Northman's hunch was real. But Kate was. The hair on the back of her neck was currently standing up, and that meant trouble, which meant that Eric had been right.

That morning, she, Eric, Bobby, and Sookie had had a long conversation about how to deal with the possibility that Grace might mean to harm Eric—and about how she might have secured an asshole like Compton to do her dirty work. In the end, it had been decided that Eric would voluntarily walk into Grace's home, for they knew that they likely wouldn't catch any of Grace's possible confederates otherwise. Kate just hoped that no one on their "side" would be harmed. Hell—what she hoped most was that Grace Northman had decided to stop being a cunt and that her apology was real.

Eric deserved that!

Kate sighed. The infrared technology she had pointed at the estate was keeping her abreast of where everyone was. And, earlier that day, Pam Northman and Tamara Davis-Northman had provided her with a very detailed layout of the property.

There were currently ten people on the grounds, but only two of the signals concerned her—the two that had been stationary. One had been in the apartment above the garage since the agents had arrived—almost four hours before. This—in and of itself—was not particularly suspicious, for the signature could belong to a sleeping employee; however, when most of the signals had gathered in the basement of the estate, probably for the servants' meal, that lone signal had stayed put. The other person she was worried about was the one in the living room; that signal had been stationary for about twenty minutes.

Agent Batanya was tempted to just rush the estate—warrants be damned. However, Eric Northman's sixth sense was not admissible in court, and since her arrival at 2:00 p.m. that afternoon—which was, irritatingly, the soonest her task force could be ready—she'd seen no evidence of anyone coming and going from the estate except for Luther, though the butler had returned with an extra passenger according to infrared. But that—in and of itself—was not enough evidence to prove that there was anything amiss.

She just hoped that Milos and Miranda, both licensed to carry guns and trained for private security, would be able to neutralize any direct threat to Northman. It would be a shame to lose him.

6:00 p.m., January 14

NORA POV

Nora Gainesborough had no delusions that she was a "good" person. She could admit that she was a selfish. But that wasn't her only character flaw. She was also a snob and quick to judge. And—as long as truths were being told—she would own to the fact that she was often lazy and apt to rely on others to bail her out when that laziness affected her work.

However, she wasn't all bad. She was clever and had a sharp wit. And she was loyal—perhaps to a fault. No. Certainly to a fault—at least when it had come to her father—the only father she could remember, that is.

Her biological father had died when she was three years old—in a yachting accident with his mistress. However, Appius Northman had never treated her like a stepchild from a fairytale, which had been her earliest fear. On the contrary, he'd been her "daddy" from the start.

Nora had been five when Appius had married her mother; coincidentally, Pam had been the same age, and the girls had become like sisters right away. Of course, that had meant that they'd squabbled nonstop, but they'd stayed pretty close nonetheless, though geographical distance during their college years had changed things a little. Pam had gone to university at Stanford, while Nora had stayed close to home.

When Alexei had been born, both sisters had doted on the naturally charming child. Of course, Pam and she had been practically grown up by the time Gracie was born, but while the cute little girl had lived at the Northman mansion, they'd spoiled her rotten.

In many ways, Eric had been an afterthought to Nora as they'd been growing up. Pam would mention him only right after her annual summer vacations with her grandparents in Sweden, which was also the time when Nora was in England with her own maternal grandparents. They'd share stories about their travels when they reunited, and Eric was always a character in Pam's stories.

And—of course—Nora would see Eric for three weeks out of the year when he came to the house for the winter holiday.

But he'd always been so introverted—though he'd been pleasant enough when she and Pam could convince him to join one of their games. Indeed, he'd been more like a friend at camp rather than a stepbrother—at least from Nora's point of view.

According to the "family talk" she'd heard—information which she now doubted—Eric had been a below average student, requiring extra tutoring during some school holidays. And it was "well known" in the family that he insisted upon spending his entire summers in Sweden.

No—Eric hadn't been around much. Of course, Pam had been closer to him, a fact which had made Nora jealous at first. But it was hard not to like the boy she'd first met when she was five and he was seven. He'd been nervous—pitiful in a way—like one of those animals in the commercials with Sarah McLaughlin. So Nora had tried to be nice to him when he was around.

Eric hadn't made things easy though. He hadn't liked the things that Pam and she had liked. He'd not played with toys; in fact, he seemed afraid to touch anything in the house. He would swim, however, so she and Pam could entice him to play Marco Polo or Duck, Duck, Goose in the indoor pool sometimes.

Yes. She remembered Eric as a reticent, gangly boy—always reading in his room or disappearing for hours on end.

He'd stopped coming for winter breaks when he'd turned eighteen, though he still came for Christmas day; coincidentally, that was also the year that Nora had noticed that Eric had turned into a handsome young man, though he was still painfully shy. Obviously, however, he'd managed to overcome his difficulties with academics, given the fact that he'd gone to Harvard and then Harvard Business School.

When she was twenty-two or so, Nora had begun to think of Eric as something other than a brother—especially when he became a coveted lover among her peers. By the time Nora mentioned her attraction to her father in order to get his input, Eric was already well-known for his sexual prowess—not that that helped Nora out any. In that department, Eric had disappointed her.

Oh—the size of Eric's cock had turned her on. Even flaccid, it was impressive, but Eric had been unable to get it up around her, and that had led her to give up on the idea of being with him romantically.

Nora sighed as her trainers hit the pavement in a rhythmic beat. Even after their failed romantic endeavor, she'd continued to like Eric—love him in her own way. Yes—he'd been a shy and introverted child. And—as an adult—he was much too serious for her tastes, in spite of his reputation as a ladies' man. However, he'd offered her a lot of support, especially since she'd started working at NP. Knowing more about the events which had dominated Eric's childhood, Nora now understood that the father she had adored had abused his own son. She still had a hard time reconciling that truth, but there was no doubting the fact that Appius had gone into Sookie and Johan's hospital room with the purpose of killing more than one person. And—as far as Nora could tell—her father's main motive had been that he didn't want to see Eric be happy.

Nora picked up her pace a little. She loved to run, especially on cold evenings like this one. There was something so enlivening about the cool air flowing into and out of her lungs—sometimes creating smoke and sometimes seeming to freeze in her upper chest. She'd picked up the activity after she'd quit drinking the first time. And—though she'd fallen off the wagon several times—running was something that she could do to put herself back onto the wagon. Or, at least, to keep herself from losing sight of it.

She ran a little faster as she thought about the things that were driving her to want to drink these days.

Her father—evil bastard though he'd turned out to be—was dead. But she was still mourning for him. Sometimes she felt like the only one mourning. Appius had always made sure that she was happy—always. And he'd stood by her during the darkest days of her life—when her mother had died—when she had been told that the emergency surgery that had saved her own life had also taken away her ability to have children. As a teenager, Nora had been crushed by her mum's death and her own losses. It was her daddy who had seen her through that time.

Nora had not known the full truth of her father's obsessive and paranoid hatred for Eric until she'd looked into his office safe following his death. Information targeted against everyone Eric cared for—as well as against Eric himself—had made up the contents of that safe. That "evidence" had been catalogued into a ledger of sorts, along with all of Appius's plans to use it—his contingencies for any "move" Eric made. In horror, Nora had realized that most of the evidence had been manufactured. And even the evidence that hadn't been made up, such as the statutory rape information, was a product of her father's hatred, for the "mature-looking" underage girl had been paid by Appius to seduce an unsuspecting Eric.

Indeed, her father had obviously lorded all of that so-called "evidence" over Eric's head for years!

Disgusted and aghast, Nora had rushed to the bathroom and had vomited after she'd seen for herself what Appius had planned for Eric. And then she'd returned to Appius's office in order to study the evidence, each piece of it ripping up a piece of the most important relationship she'd ever had in her life—each piece of it killing, once again, the man that had loved her and supported her more than anyone else.

Her daddy.

There was evidence against a man who had tried to protect Eric, Godric Burnham, Bobby's father. That evidence, which accused Godric of being a child predator, had been completely fabricated. Appius had even kept records of the people he'd paid to accuse the deceased headmaster if necessary.

In addition to incriminating evidence against Godric, there was information that seemingly proved Pam, Sookie, and Eric guilty of industrial espionage—evidence which was obviously twisted. However, it could have been very damaging to them all the same.

Nora had been grateful when Eric had wanted to destroy the contents of Appius's safe. She'd been glad to have the proof of her father's madness burned from the world.

Nora glanced at her watch; it was just past 6:00 p.m. Her run had brought her almost to her grandmother's home, and Nora took that as a sign that she needed to confront Grace. The Northman matriarch was clinging stubbornly to the notion that Eric was to blame for everything that had gone wrong—even Appius's death. But that simply wasn't true—no matter how much Nora wished it could be in some ways.

Eric wasn't to blame. It was her father who was wholly responsible—for all the hurt and all the pain.

Nora closed her eyes and said a quick prayer that—this time—her grandmother might listen to reason regarding Eric. It was time that the remaining Northmans banded together. And it was high time for the hatred that had driven her father's actions for decades to dissipate.

Nora wiped away a tear. Her daddy had died for that hate, and she thought that was enough loss. She just hoped that Grace would listen to reason. She glanced again at her watch again: 6:02 p.m. She was just half a block from her grandmother's house, so she quickened her pace and steeled her resolve.

6:00 p.m., January 14, 2014

SOOKIE POV

"Pam is going to disapprove," Bobby said gently was he patted Sookie's knee.

"What?" Sookie asked.

Bobby gestured toward the fingernail she'd just been chewing on.

"Oh!" Sookie said, pulling the nail from her mouth. Bobby reached out a hand for her to hold onto.

"I don't like this either. If I didn't think it would raise the old hag's suspicions too much, I would have gone in there with him," Bobby said fiercely.

Sookie nodded. It had been difficult to talk Bobby out of doing just that.

"I don't know why the fuck he's even going in there," Bobby said with frustration as they watched the video feed of Eric knocking on his grandmother's door.

"He needs for all of this to be over," Sookie whispered. "And—if his feeling is wrong and his grandmother really does want to reconcile, I know that he wants to try."

"That bitch isn't worth it," Bobby fumed. "I don't know why he even gives a fuck."

Sookie smiled a little and squeezed Bobby's hand. "Have you met my husband? He can't help but to give a fuck about things like this."

Bobby squeezed her hand in return. "I know." He sighed. "I'm just worried about him."

"Me too," Sookie said quietly. "But the fact that he still wants to give Grace a chance shows what a good man he is. It's one of the reasons I love him so much."

"They're going in," came Agent Batanya's voice over the intercom. "Be ready," she added to her team.

Bobby and Sookie held their breaths as they watched Eric, Miranda, and Milos enter the house.

Without argument, Agent Batanya had allowed Sookie and Bobby to sit in the "control van" while Eric and the others were inside the house. However, she'd told them that the agent currently sitting with them in the van and monitoring the various feeds would shoot them if they tried to leave before it was safe to do so.

That agent, whose name Sookie had been too nervous to remember, turned up the volume on the wire that had been planted on Eric. Footsteps against the marble floor could be heard.

Not being able to see Eric anymore, Sookie closed her eyes and tried to pick up every sound, even as she tightened her grip on Bobby's hand; she knew that she was likely hurting him, but she couldn't help herself in that moment. She was just glad that he didn't pull away.


	39. A Matter of Seconds, Part 2

Chapter 39: A Matter of Seconds, Part 2

"Your grandmother would like to speak with you in private, Mr. Northman," Luther said evenly as he led Eric, Milos, and Miranda through the foyer and to the parlor door. "I'll make sure your guards are comfortable and close-by," he added.

"That would be fine," Eric said, recognizing the nervous shake in his own voice. He gave Milos and Miranda a little nod as Luther opened the door to the parlor and motioned for him to go in. The person inside the room was indeed Grace—just as they'd thought from the thermal signatures.

"Hello Grandmother," Eric said, giving her a little smile and saying a last prayer that her motives for having him there were sincere.

Given the almost-timid smile on her face, they seemed to be, but Eric wasn't about to let his guard down—not until he was safely back in his own home.

"Hello," Grace greeted him as Luther shut the door behind him. "Thank you so much for coming today, Eric."

Not quite able to find his voice yet—and, frankly, not caring about putting his estranged grandmother at ease—Eric just nodded.

"I know that it is too early to ask for your forgiveness," Grace said contritely, "but I truly hope that today will be a first step in that direction."

"Me too," Eric said rather stiffly as he took the seat to which his grandmother had gestured.

"Would you like some tea?" Grace asked.

"Sure," Eric said, though he didn't quite relax into his seat.

"Luther will be bringing in some snacks for us in a few moments."

Eric acknowledged her words with another nod.

Grace went about making drinks from the tray that Luther had brought in a little while before Eric had arrived. "I take mine with a little lemon," she said with a congenial smile. "How do you take yours?"

"Lemon sounds good," Eric said.

She smiled a little more widely as she handed him his tea. "I really am glad you came. I believe that John would have been pleased too."

"You said that there was a letter from him?"

"Yes. And there are some other things that I think you would enjoy having as well. I recall that you used to like playing with John's collection of trains when you were a small child."

"Yes," Eric confirmed. "He gave me some trains of my own—when I was little."

"Yes—I remember. Do you know what became of them?" Grace asked with interest.

"I have them," Eric responded quietly.

"I had thought that they were lost," Grace mused.

Eric wondered if his grandmother knew that Appius's intention had been to throw them away but that Margaret had saved them. "Grandfather gave them back to me before he died."

"When?" Grace asked, her tone betraying surprise and what could have been a flash of anger.

Eric studied her controlled features carefully. "Grandfather invited me here about a month before he passed away. You weren't home at the time."

Grace said nothing for a moment. "I'm glad you saw each other," she said evenly—almost too calmly before her expression lightened. "I'm glad you had that time with him. You know—John loved you very much."

She stood up and turned her back to Eric before going to the side of the room and picking up a box.

"John collected trains all of his life. He had several antique pieces, which I feel you should have now," she said as she sat back down and took some of the items out of the box.

"May I?" Eric asked, setting down his tea. He couldn't help but to admire the small objects. He could already imagine the day when he would be giving them to his own son.

"Of course," Grace said with a soft smile. "They are yours now."

Luther glanced at the clock as soon as he heard the front doorbell unexpectedly ring.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. It was only three minutes until Compton was due, and Luther was supposed to be in the kitchen when that happened. However—if he didn't get the door and the doorbell rang again—someone would come up from the basement. He pushed the button for the intercom that would project his voice to the level below, where the rest of the staff was eating dinner.

"I'll get the door," he informed his fellow staff members via the intercom.

He glanced toward the kitchen door uncertainly, but when the front doorbell rang again, he knew he'd have to answer it. On impulse, he slipped a chair under the doorknob of the door leading downstairs, hoping that would be enough to keep the other servants from coming up—since the back stairs leading upwards were currently being renovated.

As he quickly left the kitchen, Luther wondered what else would happen to ruin the plan Grace had so carefully crafted. He'd already had to fix one problem when Eric's guards had flat-out refused to wait in the living room, where Sigebert was hoping to do away with them. Even when Luther had told them that they'd be more comfortable waiting in that room and that he'd prepared refreshments for them and that it was close to the parlor, the two guards had stubbornly refused! They had stayed in the circular foyer, though they'd had the grace to back away from the parlor door a little.

Under the guise of retrieving the refreshments he'd prepared for them, Luther had gone into the living room and had informed Sigebert that the guards were being uncooperative. Luckily, the living room was on the other side of the stairwell from where the guards had placed themselves, so Sigebert would be able to get the jump on them. However, the sound of the doorbell had likely delayed his action.

When Luther entered the large foyer, he could see Sigebert crouched down behind the staircase; he was still concealed from Eric's two guards, who were both clearly on alert. One was checking a text message, while the other looked ready to pull a gun as Luther walked in.

The butler made sure not to look at Sigebert even as he raised his hands a little. "Don't shoot," he said to Eric's guards, trying to make his voice convey humor. "I'm just going to get the door."

One of the guards nodded slightly and then glanced toward the stairwell. Luther wondered if he'd heard something, but—not wanting to give Sigebert away and hoping to get rid of whoever was calling within a minute or two—he opened the door.

"Miss Gainesborough!" Luther said with surprise. "Your grandmother isn't expecting you."

"I know," Nora said moving forward to come in.

Luther shook his head. "I'm afraid Mrs. Northman is in with a guest right now, and she gave clear instructions not to be disturbed. I'll tell her you stopped by."

"I'll wait for her," Nora said insistently.

"It will be a while," Luther said, now practically blocking the doorway.

Nora rolled her eyes. "What is it? Is Grandmother with one of her lovers?" She chuckled. "Listen, I'm not a prude. I'll just wait for Grandmother to finish the gentleman off," she winked. "In the meantime, I'll pop into the kitchen for a snack." She slipped past Luther, and saw Sigebert as she did so.

"Sigebert, what are you doing here?" Nora asked loudly, alerting Eric's guards to the presence of Appius's ex-employee.

"No!" Luther yelled out, too late to stop Nora from walking further into the room.

Luther's was the last word spoken for a while as all hell broke loose. Within 481 seconds, five lives would be lost.

Bill had expected to find a man to knock out in Grace Northman's kitchen. Instead, he found no one. Cautiously, he followed the path that Michelle had laid out for him that morning, moving slowly down the hallway from the kitchen that would lead him to the main foyer.

From what Michelle had told him, the foyer was circular in shape with a stairwell curving upward. He knew that the parlor—which was where he'd find Northman—would be the last door on the left side of the stairs.

However, what he saw in the parlor was not what he was expecting at all!

Things seemed to move very quickly after that. Sigebert, seeing Bill, emerged from the shadows, already taking aim at one of the two people that Bill guessed were Northman's guards. Luckily, the one that Sigebert shot was the one who was raising his gun to aim at Bill at that very moment.

The telltale sound of a gun with a silencer whipped through the room, and the guard went down. Another shot sounded in the room—this one loud and clear—from the second of Northman's guards. Bill aimed his weapon at that guard and pulled the trigger, hitting the woman in the chest and sending her down.

A woman's scream pierced the room, and Bill looked toward the front door in time to see the man who had brought Sigebert to the estate shutting and locking the front door of the house, even as he tried to shield the woman's body in case more shots were fired.

Upon seeing that the woman was Nora, Eric's stepsister, Bill lowered his weapon and looked at Sigebert, who was clearly dead from a bullet to the brain. Northman's guards were both down too, their blood mixing on the marble floor of the foyer.

A door from the opposite side of the foyer burst open, and Grace Northman came out, followed quickly by Eric. Both looked first at a still-screaming Nora, and Bill used that opportunity to raise his gun to aim at Eric.

"Nora!" Grace yelled out, almost slipping on the blood on the floor in her haste to get to her granddaughter. The elderly woman looked at Luther. "Has she been hurt?"

"No," Luther responded quickly.

Within seconds, Eric had taken in the carnage in the foyer, but his eyes locked onto Bill's gun when he saw that it was pointed straight at his heart.

Bill saw Eric move as if he was going to go back into the room he'd just come from.

"Don't you fucking move, Northman!" Bill yelled out.

For a moment, Eric looked as if he was going to take his chances and run, so Bill glanced toward the now-weeping Nora.

"Even if you got away from me—which you won't," Bill yelled, "I'll kill her! Do you want to see your little sister dead?"

"No, Compton!" Grace yelled. "That's not part of the arrangement!"

"The arrangement is now changing," Bill seethed.

Eric raised his hands slowly. "I'm not moving," he said through clenched teeth as he looked at Nora.

"Wise choice," Bill returned, waving his gun somewhat erratically. "Now—be a good little boy and come sit on the steps."

Eric looked at Nora again and then down at the two bodies of his guards. A horror-stricken look flashed across his face as he saw the glazed-over, dead eyes of Milos.

Miranda's eyes—he could not see. But she was clearly bleeding, and she wasn't moving.

His body shaking, Eric walked slowly toward Bill until he was in front of the steps. Even more slowly, he sat down onto them.

"Why don't you just kill him?" Grace asked with bile in her voice. "That's what I'm paying you for!"

"What?" Nora asked shakily, seemingly jarred out of her state of shock by her grandmother's words. "You arranged for this? For Eric to be killed?"

Grace pulled her granddaughter to her side in a gesture that was meant to be comforting. "This is for the best, dear. Eric has harmed this family for too long, and it is time that he gets what he deserves. It is time that he pays for what he did to Appius."

"No!" Nora said more forcefully, though tears flowed from her eyes. "He's not done anything wrong, Grandmother. It was all Daddy—all of it!"

Grace pushed her granddaughter away. "See what I mean? Now he is brainwashing you too! Kill him! Kill him now!" Grace yelled at Bill.

"Don't worry. I will kill him," Bill said. "But what about her?" he asked, gesturing toward Nora. "She'll tell the police that you were involved in all of this. And she'll tell them that I was involved."

Grace scrutinized Nora for a moment. "No—she won't."

"I will!" Nora said insistently—and foolishly—considering that Bill was now pointing his gun squarely at her.

"Wait!" Grace yelled at Bill before looking at her granddaughter. "Nora, think this through! Would you allow me to be thrown into prison?" she asked. "Think how much better it will be when Eric is gone. Things will be as they always should have been—with you at the helm of NP carrying on Appius's legacy until Appius Jr. is old enough to take up the mantle."

"This is insane!" Nora said waving her hand toward Bill. "Please—just stop all of this!"

"There will be no stopping this," Bill said, shaking his head. "Eric will die today, whether you can convince your grandmother to have a change of heart or not." Bill looked at Grace through narrowed eyes. "I need you to guarantee me some time to get out of here. I can't have her calling the police. If you can't assure me of that, I'll have no choice but to kill her. Plus, she'll need to keep her trap shut about my being here at all! Remember, Grace," he added, "Eric's death was to be blamed on some anonymous thug hired by Freyda de Castro."

"I remember," Grace said, glaring at Bill. "But now that's impossible!"

"No—it's not," Bill said, waving his gun toward Sigebert's corpse. "He'll be the one taking the wrap for all of this—as long as she," he motioned toward Nora, "cooperates."

Grace looked at Luther. "She will. Luther will take her to my home near Newport, Connecticut. I'll join her there as soon as possible, and I'm sure that she will soon realize that this has all been for the best."

"No—I won't go!" Nora yelled.

Eric spoke up. "Nora," he said, looking at her pointedly, "there is nothing you can do for me now. You need to cooperate—okay? If you don't, Compton's going to kill you too."

Nora began to cry again. "I'm so sorry, Eric. So sorry!"

"I know," he soothed. "It's not your fault."

Nora nodded.

"How chivalrous," Bill laughed mockingly.

"Wybert will be waiting in the alley beyond the gate where you entered," Grace said to Bill. "He'll be none too pleased about his brother," she said, her voice catching as she looked toward Sigebert's lifeless body for the first time. "But he will help you get away from here if I ask him to."

"And my money?" Bill asked.

"The arrangements have already been made to wire it to the account number you indicated," Grace said.

"Do it now," Bill said, holding up his phone. "I won't kill him until my money is in the account."

Grace seemed to growl. "Fine! She pulled out her own phone and quickly transferred the funds that had been set up earlier—just in case she had to go through with her deal with Compton.

Bill smiled as he saw the receipt for the money pop up in his account. Then he nodded and turned his full attention back to Eric. "You will no longer stand in my way with Sookie."

"She doesn't want you anymore," Eric said simply. "And killing me won't make that any different."

"In time, it will," the delusional man said.

Eric closed his eyes tightly, picturing his son and his wife. If he was to die, he wanted them and not Bill Compton to be his last image. He knew that Agent Batanya had to be doing something by now. The gunshots and the conversation the wire attached to his body was recording would have alerted her to what was happening. He just prayed that she'd come in time.

In fact, in that moment he prayed for several things. Mostly he thanked God for his wife and child and prayed that he wouldn't have to leave them.

"Sookie will be mine again," Bill said, his voice sounding somewhat unhinged.

Eric ignored him. "I love you, Sookie. I love you and Johan so much," Eric said quietly, his eyes still closed. He knew that the wire he was wearing would convey his words to his wife—if they were, indeed, to be his final ones.

"Wait!" Grace yelled.

"What?" Eric heard Compton ask.

"I have hated Eric for over a quarter of a century. I want to be the one who kills him," Grace said venomously.

"He's mine!" Bill said through clenched teeth.

"I'll double your money," Grace returned.

"How will you explain the gunpowder on your hands?" Bill asked.

"I'll say I was trying to shoot you," Grace returned.

Bill chuckled. "You'll double my money?"

"Yes. After he's dead."

"Here," Bill said, taking an extra gun from his pocket. "This was Lorena's. Just say that I dropped it at some point after I used it on Eric."

Grace nodded. "Thank you."

"No—thank you," Bill said. "Because of you," he continued smugly, "I'll be able to take care of my Sookie and our children forever. And she won't need Brigant money. We'll be able to leave this country and take on new identities."

Though his eyes were still closed, Eric could hear the smile in Bill's voice.

Sookie struggled against Bobby's hold.

"I have to get to Eric!" she insisted again.

"No! Bobby said firmly. "Agent Batanya has her people ready to breech the building. You can't help him, Sookie! You need to stay here and stay safe for Johan. Please!" he pleaded as tears streamed down his own face.

Truth be told, he wanted to run to his best friend too. But he knew he'd only get in the way at this point.

"Sookie will be mine again," they heard Bill say over Eric's wire feed.

"I love you, Sookie. I love Johan and you so much," Eric said.

"Don't you say goodbye to me!" Sookie yelled toward the controls in the van, even as a new round of sobs took her over. "You can't say goodbye to me," she whimpered, crumpling into Bobby's arms.

Her sobs covered up an exchange between Grace and Bill.

"Please, God. Please, God. Please. Don't take him," Sookie said in a whispered chant, her eyes closing tightly.

The sound of a shot rang through the van, and—unable to withstand her fear—Sookie fainted in Bobby's arms.

"No!" Grace screamed as Nora fell to her knees, gasping for air. After she'd made her request of Bill and he'd agreed, she'd taken the gun he'd offered her and leveled it at her grandson without hesitation.

However, even as her finger was pulling the trigger, she saw Nora launching herself between her stepbrother and the bullet. Too late, Grace had tried to point the gun elsewhere.

Now—seeing her granddaughter with a growing bloodstain on her shirt—Grace dropped the gun to the floor and ran to Nora.

"Nora! Please stay with me!" Grace yelled. She looked at Luther. "Call 9-1-1!"

Luther came to Grace's side, even as Nora took her last breath.

"It's too late," Luther said quietly, trying to comfort Grace, but also keeping a wary eye on Bill.

"Must I do everything?!" Bill fumed as he raised his own gun again.

Eric had opened his eyes when he'd felt no pain after the first gunshot. For a moment, he'd thought that God had answered his prayer to let him live. But then he'd seen Nora fall down. He'd stood up from the steps—to try to help the sister who had sacrificed herself for him. But as another shot rang out, his body was propelled in a different direction. Eric fell to the floor; his breath had been stolen from him, and his body felt too heavy to move.

And—his world—in that second went dark.

Agent Batanya shouted into her radio. "Go. Go. Go!"

It had been five minutes since they'd heard the first gunshot; it had taken her that long to get her people into position so that they could converge on the building from several sides, including the kitchen and living room entrances and the front door. Her people still had the element of surprise on their side, and she'd wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

And—thankfully—it seemed as if Grace and Bill had wanted to have a rather lengthy conversation, and Nora had provided a good distraction as well. Thus, Kate had decided to make a more calculated entrance.

However, as soon as she heard the shot that she was pretty sure had killed Eric Northman, a man she truly respected, she regretted her calculations. And she was done waiting for her people to get into place! She hurried toward the foyer from where she'd entered in the kitchen. Her gun was cocked and she was ready to kill Bill Compton and Grace Northman.

Eric didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, but he forced his eyes open when he heard the sound of another gunshot.

He saw Bill's body tense as if in pain as blood poured from his left shoulder.

"Drop your goddamned gun!" he heard Kate Batanya yell.

Another shot rang out and Eric looked on in horror as Kate, who'd obviously come in from the kitchen, slumped to the floor. He thought he saw blood on her temple.

For Eric, the world became hazier after that. It seemed to both speed up and slow down all at once.

Eric heard Grace's cries as Bill dragged her away from Nora by the hair and threatened to kill her as other agents came into the foyer. He was obviously using her as a shield. Eric heard an exchange of yelling between Luther and Bill and then between Bill and other FBI agents.

Eric blinked several times and found that his breath had returned to him. He tried not to move, his mind telling him that he'd been shot in the bulletproof vest that he was wearing. He was on the floor, and clearly Bill thought he was dead. And Eric—not, in the least, ashamed of playing opossum—intended to keep it that way. From where he was lying, he was looking right into the dead eyes of Milos, who had given his life to protect him. However, Eric held in his horror at the sight. He also held in his anguish at the fact that Nora and Miranda had sacrificed themselves too. Instead, he focused on making no noise.

He was surprised when he felt something touching his hand. Without moving his body, he moved his eyes to look at his hand. There was a gun being pushed slowly against it by a knee. Eric could tell that it was Miranda who was doing the pushing.

He breathed a shallow sigh of relief. She was alive.

With all of the attention in the room being stolen by the yelling between Bill and the others—as well as by Grace's curses—Eric opened his hand and took the gun.

He'd never used a firearm until the month before—when he'd taken lessons from Henry and Thalia, just in case. As expected, both had proven to be excellent teachers.

Eric closed his hand around the handle of the gun, ignoring the fact that it was wet with something sticky—likely its owner's blood. He used his fingers to make sure the safety was off and to double check that the gun was cocked.

He shifted slightly to get a better view of Bill, who had taken up a position behind the staircase so that those coming from the kitchen and the living room couldn't get a good shot at him. He was yelling and demanding a safe escape in exchange for his hostage's life.

The extremely solid front door was cracked, and Eric could hear that other agents were trying to breech it. Suddenly, it burst open, and two more agents added to the chaos in the room. These agents quickly secured a struggling and yelling Luther, even as Bill moved further around the stairs. He was literally cornered now, but was using the stairs and Grace's body as his shields.

However, from his vantage point on the floor, Eric had a shot.

Compton was now demanding that "Susanna" be brought to him, or he was going to kill Grace. The deranged look in Bill's eyes was one that Eric had seen one other time—in Appius's eyes as he'd announced that he was going to kill Sookie.

Eric knew that Bill no longer felt that he would be leaving the house alive. Eric also knew that Bill would take everyone he could with him—and that killing Sookie would be right at the top of his list. Bill probably thought—in his delusional mind—that he and Sookie would journey into the afterlife together.

Fat fucking chance!

In the blink of an eye, Eric made his decision. He trusted Bobby to keep Sookie away from the house, but he knew that, if she thought she could save him, his stubborn wife would try anything—including cold-cocking Bobby—in order to get into that room. Eric couldn't chance that. Plus, despite everything, the woman Bill was holding as his hostage was his grandfather's widow. And even though he now cared nothing for Grace, Eric still loved his grandfather John deeply. So—to protect Sookie and to honor the grandfather who had tried to secure his future—Eric lifted his hand and pulled the trigger.

Henry and Thalia had been truly excellent teachers. They'd made sure that he could hit a target only a few inches in diameter—from fifty feet away. Bill was less than ten feet away from Eric. And, though he was prone, Eric's hand was steady. And his eyes were focused on his target.

Even as the sound of the shot echoed in the blood-filled foyer, Bill Compton fell onto the marble floor, his own eyes wide open in shock. His blood soon joined the rest.

And his soul?

Who the fuck cared!

Grace fell with him and tried to grab Bill's gun.

"Touch it and I'll reunite you with Appius," Eric said coldly, his aim now trained onto his grandmother.

Grace withdrew her hand and shrank into the corner—her eyes, which looked so much like Appius's had, holding nothing but pure hatred.

However, those eyes no longer had any power over Eric. And they caused him no pain.


	40. Weather the Storm

Chapter 40: Weather the Storm

"If you want to see the sunshine, you have to weather the storm."

—Frank Lane

"Sookie, Sookie. Min kära, please wake up. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you. It's okay. I'm okay," Eric said desperately.

Sookie felt familiar arms holding her and wondered for a moment if she had died too. She wouldn't be surprised. When she'd heard the shot that she'd been sure had killed her husband, her heart had literally broken.

"Min älskade," came a whisper and then kisses on her face. "Please. Wake up for me."

"Sir, please, let us check her," another voice said.

"I'm not moving," Eric said gruffly. "Check her, but I'm staying where I am."

There was a pause. "Okay, sir."

Sookie felt hands holding her wrist, and she fought to open her eyes.

"Her heart rate is fine," the voice said. "So is her blood pressure. She's just fainted. We should check you out though. That's an ugly bruise you have on your head, and you might have a cracked rib or two. Your bulletproof vest saved your life, but you were still shot at close range."

"Later," Eric said firmly, though he wheezed a little.

Hearing Eric's protestations and his wheezing, Sookie tried to force her eyes open again. Something placed under her nose, thankfully, helped her to awaken.

Smelling salts.

Her eyes popped open. Eric was cradling her; he was beautiful and alive. His shirt was off, and she could see a bruise forming over his heart, near the scar from his previous gunshot wound.

"Hi," he said, touching her cheek gently.

"You're alive," she responded weakly, a tear falling from her eye.

"Yes."

"Milos? Miranda?" she asked.

Eric shook his head sadly. "Milos is dead. Sigebert shot him in the head. Miranda was shot in the chest by Bill, but her vest protected her. However, she hit her head pretty hard on a table when she fell to the floor. She was knocked out for a while."

Eric looked at the paramedic who had given Sookie the smelling salts. "Do you know any more about the condition of my guard?"

The paramedic nodded. "Yeah, like you, she might have a cracked rib or two. The bullets you were shot with were high caliber. She has a laceration to the head, but the bleeding's almost stopped. And she's definitely got a concussion—again, like you."

More tears were slipping from Sookie's eyes as she thought of Milos, who had become like family during the past months.

She tried to sit up a little, but she immediately got dizzy.

"Sookie?" Eric asked in a worried tone. "You okay?"

"She hit her head on the side of the van when she fainted," Bobby said from behind the paramedic. "I tried to catch her before that happened, but it was," he paused, "right after we thought you'd . . . ." His voice trailed off.

"We should take you both to the hospital—just to be safe. You probably have matching concussions," the paramedic said in a slightly joking tone.

Eric nodded in agreement, more for Sookie's sake than for his own. "Fine, but we ride together."

The paramedic smiled indulgently. "Of course."

"Johan?" Sookie asked.

"He's fine," Bobby assured. "I just got off the phone with Henry. I told him about Milos and Kate."

"Kate?" Sookie asked, her eyes horror-filled.

"She's dead too," Eric said, his own eyes now filling with tears.

Eric held onto Sookie and rocked her as the paramedics came over with a gurney for her.

"Pam needs to know about Nora," Eric said to Bobby.

"I know," Bobby responded. "I'm going to go to her and tell her in person—right after I leave here. Amelia knows already, and she's waiting for me."

Eric nodded.

"What about Nora?" Sookie asked.

"When my grandmoth—," Eric began and then paused. "No. When Appius's mother tried to shoot me, Nora jumped in front of me. I was sitting on the stairs when that shot went off, and from where Nora was hit, I think that the bullet would have killed me if she'd not moved in the way of it," he said with a little awe in his voice. "Nora died—saving me."

Sookie gasped and closed her eyes, trying to take in what Eric was saying.

"We should get you two to the hospital," the paramedic said more insistently, signaling for his partner to help him get a still slightly dizzy Sookie onto the gurney.

EIGHT DAYS LATER

Sookie and Eric sat at their third funeral in as many days. And every one of the three people they'd said their goodbyes to had saved Eric's life. And none of the three would have been killed if Eric hadn't walked into Grace's home—if he'd not wanted to try to reconcile with her.

At first, the guilt of those truths had threatened to take Eric somewhere dark. Why did he survive when they had died? Why didn't he just cancel his meeting with his grandmother when he began to suspect something might be amiss? Was his life worth the ones lost?

Along with the questions, Eric could hear the voice of his father in his head—telling him that he was a "cancer" who killed everyone around him. It had been a "lesson" drilled into Eric's head so much when he was a kid that it was apparent that he'd not fully unlearned it.

For once, Sookie hadn't been able to pull him up from the self-loathing and guilt he was feeling. In addition to Sookie, Claudine had tried to talk to him. And then Bobby had tried. And then Pam. It was finally Ben, who saved Eric from plunging fully into depression.

Eric had been terrified to talk to Ben—to face him after what had happened to Milos, who had been like a son to the MET's head of security. However, Ben hadn't waited for Eric to come to the MET; he had come to see Eric.

The two had said nothing for a long time as they'd stared out at the Hudson from the terrace. Then Ben had stood up and motioned for Eric to follow him. Together, they'd packed up Milos's things. Together, they'd driven to the Bronx. Together, they'd spoken with Milos's father and brother and had returned his things to his family. And then Ben had driven them to a pier on the East River.

It was there that Eric had spilled his guts—as they'd looked out over the water. Eric unleashed every negative thought that he'd been having about his choices and actions—and himself. And Ben had silently listened to them all.

And—when Eric was finally done indicting himself—Ben took over the speaking. He told Eric that he didn't believe he was responsible for what had happened. He told Eric that he was strong—not weak—for having wanted to give Grace another chance. He told Eric that the situation had been impossible because the people who had orchestrated it, Bill and Grace and Michelle, were bile-filled monsters. He told Eric that he'd done the best he could in the face of those monsters.

When Eric had tried to protest, Ben shut him up with a look, telling him that Milos had died for a brother—as much as Nora had. He asked him if he would have stepped in front of a bullet for either of them—to which Eric answered an unhesitating "yes." Ben reminded Eric that Kate Batanya had been killed in the line of duty—duty both to her country and to a friend. When Eric questioned his worth, Ben just hugged him like a father should and told him unequivocally that he was, indeed, valuable—to Sookie, to Johan, to himself, and to all those who loved him.

When Eric once again blamed himself for going into Grace's house to start with, Ben reminded him that he'd done it for love, which was the best reason to do anything. Eric had gone into that house because he loved his grandmother and wanted to believe that she could—after so many years—love him back. He'd gone into that house because he loved his wife and child and wanted to make sure that neither Grace nor Bill Compton could ever harm them.

When Eric had looked at the ground in shame, Ben had forced his chin up, telling him that it wasn't his fault that Grace and Bill and Sigebert had murderous intentions.

Then Ben had reminded Eric that Milos and Miranda and Agent Batanya had all chosen to go into that house with him—because they, too, had wanted the legacy of hate begun by Appius Northman to stop. Finally stop.

Ben told Eric that he was proud of him.

Ben told Eric the he loved him like a son.

The two stood at the pier almost all night—ignoring the frigid temperature—as Eric talked out and then cried out his pain. And, by the time Ben dropped Eric back at Carmichael Tower in the early hours of the dawn, Ben had become a father to Eric—an even more tangible father-figure than Godric had been—for Eric was now ready to accept that a "father" could love him, even though he had flaws and made mistakes.

Eric still felt guilt and sorrow, but—after his talk with Ben—he knew that, in time, he would be able to work through those emotions. Could he have done things differently? Yes. But he hadn't. That was the truth of the matter. And he needed to deal with the reality of the situation. He needed to stay strong for his family, for—though their remaining enemies were no longer immediate threats—Eric had no illusions that they would "go gently" into the night. wHeHe

Eric sighed. There would be at least three criminal trials on the horizon.

Wybert had been captured even before Agent Batanya's team had breached Grace Northman's home; however, he'd not confessed to killing Michelle Stackhouse until the next day—after her body had been found. Of course, since then, he'd also confessed to other crimes in his misguided quest to protect Grace.

Luther had also been arrested as an accessory to murder and attempted murder. The case against him would be more difficult to prove, and the prosecutor was trying to broker a deal with him in order to get him to testify against Grace.

Grace's trial was likely going to be a media circus. She'd already hired several well-known lawyers to be her defense team. And, given the high profile of the Northmans in Manhattan—it was likely that their first move would be to ask for a change of venue for the trial.

Eric sighed as his wife leaned against his body. He placed an arm around her shoulder. Sookie had proven to be so strong during the past days, seeming to know exactly what to say and what not to say to him. Despite her own trauma, it had been she who had made sure that Eric ate in the days following the deaths. And it had been she who had called Ben to come see Eric.

Nora's funeral had been held on Monday, January 20. And, showing even more strength and character, Sookie had helped Sophie-Anne and Pam to make all of the arrangements for it. With Amelia on one side of her and Bobby on the other, Pam had given the eulogy for her sister. It had been a beautiful tribute. Pam didn't pull any punches when it came to admitting that Nora had her flaws. However, Pam had ended her eulogy by saying that Nora had died a heroine—trying to save the life of their brother and trying to stop the madness of their father's legacy of hate.

Milos had been laid to rest at the Calverton National Cemetery on Long Island on Tuesday, January 21. His father had delivered the eulogy and had talked about his son's military service with pride. He also talked about how much Milos had enjoyed his new job and how proud he'd been to be protecting such good people. Sookie had cried quietly throughout the service.

It was now Wednesday, January 22, and Eric couldn't help but to have mixed feelings. He was incredibly sad, but also incredibly happy, for—just two hours before—he and Sookie had been told that she was pregnant with their second child.

After the shootings, they'd been taken to the hospital and, indeed, had been diagnosed with matching concussions. However, Sookie's blood work had come back with slightly elevated hormone levels. Since they'd resumed sex less than a week before that test, it was too soon for a pregnancy to be confirmed with a hundred percent certainty. However, Ludwig had drawn some of Sookie's blood the day before after Milos's funeral. And right before they'd left for Kate's funeral, they'd gotten the results: positive.

It seemed that all that time without sex had made Eric's sperm into "super sperm," or—perhaps—his little swimmers were just adept at finding their way around Sookie's birth control pills. Whatever had happened, however, Eric and Sookie had taken the pregnancy as a sign that God wanted them to move forward, even as they honored the memories of their fallen "family members."

He and Sookie had already started calling the baby Kate—though they didn't intend to tell anyone else about "her" until after the first trimester. Eric didn't know why he was so certain his second child would be a girl, but Sookie seemed just as sure. If the child wasn't a girl, they'd have to scramble for another name since Kate Adele Northman had already been decided upon.

Eric looked around the small chapel. Kate Batanya hadn't been the type of woman to have many friends. Half of the room was filled with her colleagues, though it was clear that they respected and/or feared her.

The other half of the room held mostly the same people who had attended the other two funerals—a kind of "block" that had traveled together from one place of mourning to the next.

Sookie, of course, was right next to Eric. And Johan was asleep in the crook of his left arm, cuddled half inside of his suit jacket. Next to him on the other side was his mormor and then Niall. Amelia sat next to Sookie, and Pam, Bobby, and Thalia completed the row. Behind him were Henry and Blake, Ben and his wife Maria, and several other members of the MET crew including Doris, Tony, and Jack. Behind them were Sophie-Anne, A.J., Tamara, Gracie, Alexei, the Edgingtons, and Desmond Cataliades. And in the next row back were Claudine, Claude, Copley Carmichael, Paul Carmichael, and Paul's wife. Trey, Rasul, Jarod and Miranda were in the row after that. Calvin and Alcide were holding down the fort at Carmichael Tower.

Eric had offered to let Miranda out of the contract she'd signed when she became his and Sookie's guard, but she'd refused, telling him to "shut the fuck up." In fact, the day after that, Jarod had told Henry that he was resigning from Carmichael Tower so that he could go to work for Eric. Eric had been floored by Miranda and Jarod's friendship and devotion to him, Johan, and Sookie.

Before Sookie had come into his life, Eric had been so afraid of loss that he'd tried to avoid everything worth having. The previous week, he'd lost three people he cared about within a few horrible minutes. He'd felt the pain of their loss and the guilt attached to their deaths. But, thanks to his talk with Ben, he'd realized that he'd never regret having those people in his life—even if it was just for a short time. And the miracle was that they'd felt the same way about him.

Kate Batanya had made it a personal mission to capture Bill Compton because she cared about his family.

According to Milos's father, Milos had been aware of all of the risks of his job, but had thought that keeping Eric, Sookie, and Johan safe was well worth those risks.

Indeed, both Kate and Milos had become part of Eric and Sookie's "family."

As for Nora, Eric still couldn't believe she'd stepped in front of a bullet for him. It was difficult for him to reconcile that selfless action with the mostly selfish woman he'd known. But—in the end—Eric decided that he wasn't going to question Nora's actions or motives. Only she knew why she'd jumped in front of him. During her life, Nora had made a lot of mistakes and had—both intentionally and unintentionally—caused a lot of damage. However, she was Appius's victim too—his last victim, if Eric had anything to say on the matter. And the last moments of her life had actually been her strongest, most admirable moments. Eric had decided to remember his stepsister for those moments and to be grateful to her.

Ben had told him something very wise during their talk. In every piece of great art, there was struggle, and in the greatest art, there were mistakes—brush strokes that weren't quite right or colors that didn't quite work. He'd emphasized that it was the imperfections that created specialness and uniqueness.

He and Sookie hadn't gone to a new gallery the previous Sunday. For some reason, Monet's The Four Trees had beckoned to them. Maybe it was because—during their relatively short time together—they had lost four people who had helped them to find their way to each other, or who had helped them to stay together and whole. Gran had been lost to them before she'd gotten to meet her great-grandchild, and they still missed her very much. Milos and Kate had been lost to them too soon after they'd become members of their "family."

Understandably, Nora's loss was felt mostly by Eric. As screwed up as their relationship had been at times, she'd proven herself to be a loyal sister to Eric. In Nora's newly-rewritten Will, read after her funeral, she'd honored Eric even further. Unbeknownst to anyone, she'd made him her executor and main beneficiary, asking only that he use his "unwaveringly honorable judgment" to decide what was "best for their family."

Four people.

Four trees.

Eric and Sookie had sat in the gallery for a long time, quietly talking about all of them, and thinking of various ways that they could honor them.

Of course, others had died the day that their friends had. But Eric and Sookie didn't talk about them, nor had they since then. In some ways, they were not important enough to talk about.

Bill Compton had been cremated following his autopsy. Eric hadn't felt any guilt over putting a bullet into his head. Sigebert, too, had been cremated, and his remains would be given to his brother, Wybert, who would likely never spend a day outside of a prison again.

Michelle Stackhouse's funeral was, ironically enough, probably starting even then. Her role in Grace's plot had yet to become public, though it would soon enough. Jason had come to New York in order to take his mother's body back with him to Bon Temps, where she'd be laid to rest next to her own mother. Sookie had said that was fitting, but—beyond that—she hadn't mentioned her mother's death.

Sookie had never even considered attending Michelle Stackhouse's funeral.

Jason and Niall had actually had lunch on the day that Sookie's brother was in New York. And Niall had helped Jason with the arrangements for taking his mother home. According to Niall, Jason had been almost "pleasant" to be around. Though Jason had clearly been mourning for Michelle, Niall felt as if the young man was finally beginning to understand what kind of a person his mother really was. But only time would tell if he could truly change. Meanwhile, Sookie had stuck to her previous decision that she didn't want to pursue a relationship with Jason, though she was glad that Niall was trying with him.

She had "brothers" who had chosen her—who had shown her unconditional love.

Eric heard Sookie sniffling softly next to him and handed her a handkerchief.

Kate's father, who was also an FBI agent, had just begun his eulogy for his child. He smiled as he told those gathered about how his daughter had loved her job more than anything else. And many laughed with him as he told of how Kate had basically interrogated any potential boyfriend to the point that he ran for the hills. He teared up when he said how proud of her he was. He talked about how satisfied she would have been to know that people like Bill Compton and Grace Northman had been stopped from hurting others. And he told those gathered that his daughter had actually shared with him that she "liked" the Northmans, which—coming from her—meant that they were the equivalent of "family" in her eyes.

That last statement had brought tears to both Eric's and Sookie's eyes, and they'd found their hands settling over Sookie's stomach, cradling their little Kate—not even two weeks old, but already surrounded by so much love.

Eric was thankful—so thankful for his life—that his heart felt like it would burst.

Sookie and he had both survived horrible torment from their parents, and they had managed to come through whole—or at least whole enough so that they could work on fixing themselves. They'd given each other a connection and a family—something that they were determined that their children would never lack. They would teach their children to love, and they would give them love in return.

Of all the things they could do, Eric knew that was the one that would honor their fallen loved ones the most.


	41. The Good with the Bad

Chapter 41: The Good with the Bad

"The more perfect a thing is, the more susceptible to good and bad treatment it is."

—Dante Alighieri

SIX MONTHS LATER

Freyda de Castro looked into the eyes of her child, trying to muster up love for her. But the child's eyes seemed wrong somehow.

She sighed and looked away—before walking out onto the balcony of the luxury penthouse apartment where she'd been staying with her father.

The last months had worn her down—body and soul.

After Michelle Stackhouse had been murdered, her phone records had been scrutinized, and it wasn't long before Freyda's connection to the woman had been found. After that, Freyda's nurse, Daphne, had been arrested for endangering her charge. Felipe had been furious at Daphne, who'd not only been providing his daughter with a phone, but had also been hiding the fact that Freyda wasn't taking much of the medicine Claudine had prescribed in order to help her mental state.

Of course, Freyda had been furious that the woman had been caught—that her only allies were gone!

However, once back on her meds, Freyda had begun to calm down a little. And Claudine had come to see her almost every day. Almost against her will, Freyda had found herself being "helped" by the doctor—at least helped to find her sanity again.

But living inside of that sanity hadn't proven to be easy at all for her.

Freyda looked up and breathed in the humid summer air. It had been raining throughout the day, though the storm had mostly passed through Manhattan. She took another deep breath. Because of the rain, the world seemed newer somehow.

Freyda closed her eyes as it began to sprinkle a little. But the drops were warm, so she didn't rush to go inside. Maybe she was hoping that the rain could renew her too.

Especially since her daughter, Felicia, had been born, Freyda had been on medicines that had helped her to better understand reality versus the various fictions she'd created in her mind.

She knew, for example, that Eric Northman was not the father of her child and that Appius had used her against his son. She could appreciate the fact that Eric wasn't hers—and that she really didn't even "know" him. She had come to accept that her fixation with Eric had been an unhealthy obsession on her part.

But "knowing" those things and "feeling" them were two different things, not that the medicine Freyda was on allowed her to feel much of anything. Mostly, she just felt numb.

A few days after Felicia was born, Freyda had been "deemed" well enough to be released from the "recovery center" where she'd been sent by her father. She and her baby had gone to her father's home—though Freyda wasn't allowed to be alone with her child. In truth, she didn't mind this precaution. After all, to her manic depression had been added postpartum depression.

Again, Claudine had tried to help her to "want" to be a mother—through both medicine and counseling—but, even as she tried to go through the motions of motherhood, Freyda knew it was best that someone else provide the primary care for her child.

Someone who was not her.

Beyond her child's nurse, Freyda also had two fulltime, live-in "caretakers"—both hired by her father. Understandably, they were both nurses and "babysitters" for her. At Freyda's request, her father had also arranged for Claudine to appoint someone else to be her main therapist, though Claudine was still consulting on the case and would visit with Freyda a few times a month. Claudine had accepted Freyda's reasoning that she wanted a therapist with "more distance" from the case, and Claudine had arranged for a postpartum specialist to visit with her four times a week.

Freyda sighed. At the request of first Claudine and then her new counselor, she'd tried hard to remember what it had felt like when she'd "had a life" that didn't involve her obsession with Eric. But it was difficult to remember a time when she felt "normal" or totally in control. It was difficult to remember ever thinking about what she wanted from her own life. It was difficult to remember what her own "dreams" had been.

Had she ever had any "sane" dreams of her own?

She couldn't remember them if she had.

She couldn't remember wanting to join in her father's business, and—to his credit—her dad had never tried to force her to take an interest in the publishing world. In fact, from her teenaged years—when her mental illness had likely manifested, according to her therapist—Freyda hadn't "desired" much of anything for herself, beyond "busyness." She'd always just wanted to keep herself busy, for she would get uncomfortable any time a minute wasn't filled. Thus, she would take elaborate "fun-filled" trips with "friends" who would keep her entertained. Between those trips, Freyda had filled her days with shopping. And at night, she'd gone to trendy clubs or exclusive restaurants—always surrounded by a group of people who seemed to adore her. And, if she wasn't out with friends, she'd attend high-profile events—where her beauty and status were admired.

Freyda recognized now that she'd never been happy. She still wasn't quite sure what being happy entailed; thus, she was pretty confident that she'd never find happiness. She glanced back toward the glass door into the penthouse. She wished that she could smile as she saw the nanny bouncing her happy baby on her lap and amusing her with a toy.

But Freyda couldn't muster up a smile for her daughter. And—for that—she hated herself. She turned away again and once more closed her eyes to the falling mist. Claudine and others had tried to tell her that the medicine she was on would make her feel malaise at times, for it was keeping her from either manic or depressive states. They'd told her that she would get used to the feeling and would one day be able to take back her life—whatever that meant.

Indeed, Freyda knew that the medicine was helping to keep her sane. But she hated that it also made her think. Not thinking had been so much easier! She shook her head a little. Most of her thoughts were now centered on her baby girl—so sweet and innocent. So happy. Freyda felt certain that she would never make a good mother for her.

That Felicia would be much better off without her.

Not too long after she'd been on her meds, Freyda had gotten tired of thinking.

She'd gotten tired of life being hard.

And she'd come to believe that she wasn't meant for the whole "living" thing.

She glanced back into the living room. In addition to Felicia and her nanny, one of her own "caretakers" was in there. Freyda knew that the woman was "keeping an eye on her." She also knew that her father feared that she'd make another attempt on her own life. Hell—before she'd gotten home, her dad had arranged for the house to be "child-proofed"—with her being the child! The railing around the balcony had been built up so that it would be almost impossible for her to kill herself by diving off of the building. The chairs on the balcony had even been bolted down! And her watchers made sure that she didn't have access to any kind of weapon with which she might kill herself. Hell—for a while, they'd even cut her meat for her!

But Freyda had learned something very important as her thoughts had refused to give her rest. She'd learned that anyone who wanted to kill herself or himself enough could find a way.

Yes—the railing of the balcony had been heightened, but Freyda had been planning how to get over it all the same.

In the past, there would have been no way that she could have done it—not in the high heels and designer dresses that she'd always made her "uniform"—even during her "casual times" at home. However, Freyda had begun "dressing" for comfort—tennis shoes, yoga pants, and soft T-shirts of the finest cotton that money could buy now made up her "casual wardrobe." And—at her request—her father had hired her a personal trainer to help her to "lose the baby" weight. It was thought by all that exercise would help her mental state too. And it had—just not in the way the others had thought.

It had helped her to become much more physically strong than she'd been two months before—when she'd first come up with her plan to die. She knew that she would need more upper body strength to hoist herself up over the new railing. She knew that she'd need "sensible" clothing and shoes so that she would be unencumbered. And—for the past months—she'd worked to train her body.

Out of love for her father, she'd waited until her would be out of town on business. And he was—for the first time since the baby had been born.

She was ready to go.

For a last time, she glanced back at her child. Again, she could find no smile for Felicia. Had she found one—if she could have felt any love for her daughter or for herself—she wouldn't be doing what she was going to do. She also saw that her caretaker had left the living room—likely to go to the bathroom or to the kitchen. It didn't matter. This last piece of the puzzle had been what Freyda was waiting for.

She looked down at her tennis shoes, thankful that they had a good grip, given the fact that the railing would be slick from the rain.

With purpose, she walked to the side of the balcony, and used her strengthened body to pull herself up and over the railing. She stayed perched on the precipice of life and death for only a moment—surprised that she was so calm, surprised that there were no tears in her eyes.

She smiled a little. The rain would be her tears.

She jumped into it.

ONE WEEK LATER

Sookie sighed deeply as she marveled for the millionth time about how her body—even expanded as it was—fit perfectly against her husband's.

He was spooning her from behind. Johan was in his co-sleeper, but her hand was close enough to be touching his little hand, and Eric's long arm was stretched so that his hand was resting lightly on Johan's back.

Though it probably cut off his circulation fully, Eric had managed to get his other arm under her, so that he could cradle the bump that covered their daughter, Kate.

As she heard Eric's peaceful snore behind her, she couldn't help but to smile. Earlier that day, they'd found out that their little "Kate" was, indeed, a girl. Had Kate cooperated during her previous two ultrasounds, they would have found out before then. But their daughter hadn't wanted to "show her stuff"—so to speak. Despite Kate's stubbornness, Sookie couldn't complain. So far her pregnancy had been without any problems whatsoever, though Dr. Ludwig was insisting on appointments every two weeks. And Eric checked her blood pressure every day.

Sookie didn't mind. She felt like she was simply along for the ride this time, as Eric enjoyed all of the facets of her pregnancy that he'd missed out on the first time.

She and Eric liked to joke that January was an especially fertile month for them, and Henry was already calling Kate and Johan Irish twins. Since he and Thalia were only eleven months apart in age, no one took it as in insult.

Sookie couldn't help but to think of January—and specifically the NP parties—with fondness. Both of her children had been conceived around the time of those parties. And she'd met the father of those children at one of them—and seen him for the first time at another one.

Of course, Januaries had brought pain too, but Sookie and Eric had learned to take the bad with the good.

She sighed as she thought about the mixture of good and bad that had come to them lately.

The week before, they'd received a phone call from Sophie-Anne telling them that Freyda had committed suicide. Two days later, Felipe had called to ask if Eric and Sookie wished to meet Felicia, whom Eric hadn't yet seen due to the situation. Guards in tow, Eric, Sookie, and Johan had met with Felipe, Felicia, and her nanny at a McDonald's—of all places.

As it turned out, their first meeting with Eric's half-sister would be their last for the foreseeable future. Felipe had decided to place his publishing company into the hands of his nephew and leave New York. He still had family in Spain and wanted to raise his granddaughter there. Freyda's Will had named Felipe as Felicia's guardian, and, given the situation, the Northman family wasn't going to challenge Felipe's wishes regarding where the child was raised.

However, Sookie knew that the whole situation and his further exile from his half-sister had bruised Eric's heart, even though he thought that Felipe was acting in Felicia's best interests.

While Freyda's suicide had certainly scratched at the scars left behind by Appius, Grace Northman seemed to want to make new wounds for Eric and Sookie. In her obstinacy, Grace had pleaded innocent, despite the fact that the wire recording that the FBI had made was extremely damning.

Before they'd found out the gender of their child that afternoon, Eric and Sookie had spent the morning in court, where Grace's defense team had begun to present their case. Eric had testified the week before—with his testimony lasting almost two full days. By the prosecutors, he'd been asked to recount all of the painful details of his childhood and early adulthood, and he'd stalwartly done just that. The defense attorneys had tried to paint him as a bitter man, who'd antagonized Bill Compton to commit the violent acts against him. They'd tried to argue that Grace had been "pretending" to want to shoot him and that she'd intended to shoot Bill Compton—but that Nora's sudden movements had caused her to discharge the weapon too soon.

However, Grace's attorneys' efforts to portray Eric negatively had failed—epically—and Sookie had been proud of the strength that her husband had exuded as he'd testified. He'd faced the last of his demons, and he'd looked his grandmother in the eye as he'd answered every venomous question Grace's lawyers threw at him with dignity and truth.

Given the bleakness of her chance for acquittal following Eric's testimony, Grace's attorneys had tried to counsel her to take a plea bargain. If she simply changed her plea to guilty, she would be allowed to live out the rest of her days in the relative comfort of a minimum security prison where she would be guaranteed her own room. However, Grace had refused the deal, insisting that once she testified, the jury would acquit her.

Loyal to Appius Northman to the end, Wybert had tried to take all the blame upon himself and Sigebert when he'd testified earlier that morning. And Luther wouldn't say anything negative against Grace either—claiming his Fifth Amendment rights instead of answering about half of the questions he'd been asked. His own trial was due to begin in December.

However, no matter what lies Grace, Wybert, and Luther told, there was so much evidence against Grace that her attorneys looked more and more disheartened every day. There was a money trail proving that Grace had paid off Compton. There were the testimonies of Miranda and Eric, as well as several FBI agents who had heard Grace's rants after she'd been read her rights and initially refused an attorney. There were ballistic reports. And, of course, there was the wire recording.

Grace was the only person delusional enough to think she would be getting away with murder, attempted murder, and conspiracy to commit murder charges.

Sookie frowned a little as she caught sight of her phone on her nightstand. While she'd been in the courtroom with Eric that morning, Jason had texted her for the second time that week. Now that their mother was dead, Jason was obviously floundering—or "growing as a person"—depending how one looked at the situation. Niall continued to seek out a relationship with him, and her easily moldable brother seemed to be "human" now due to Niall's influence.

However, for Sookie, there was still too much water under the bridge for her to attempt to meet Jason halfway. He'd spent a quarter of a century being cruel to her, and a few texts were not enough to make up for that.

Sookie closed her eyes tightly. She'd cried for her mother one time—and one time only—after she'd learned that Wybert had strangled her. She'd been in the shower and had been a little surprised when she felt her tears mixing with the hot water. But those tears had been more about saying goodbye to the scared little girl she'd once been. They were tears of relief.

And now that the demon of Michelle Stackhouse had been exorcised from her life, Sookie wanted nothing more to do with her—even in the form of Jason, despite the fact that he seemed sincerely apologetic.

She smiled as her husband rubbed her belly in his sleep. Kate was moving too.

She enjoyed the moment.

In the months since January, she and Eric had carried on with their lives, despite all the tragedy and the continued media attention. As long as they were together, there was a rhythm to them that nothing seemed able to penetrate, and though they had been sad about the lives lost, they'd moved forward—together.

Both Miranda and Jarod were their fulltime guards now, and Sookie and Eric had invested in the home above theirs when it had come on the market. Now that Eric had his trust fund—not to mention the fact that Sookie was incredibly wealthy too—they were able to afford to buy it. Hell—they could have bought a lot more, but they loved where they lived.

Currently, Jarod and Miranda lived in the new house, but Sookie and Eric were planning to connect the two floors into one large home—to accommodate their growing family and their live-in guards. They were simply waiting for the city building permits to be approved, but Copley Carmichael had already approved things from his end.

Miranda was Sookie's usual companion when she left Carmichael Tower. And Jarod watched Eric like a hawk. Sookie was grateful for both of them.

Not surprisingly, Henry was a de facto member of their security team. He continued to run Carmichael Tower like a well-oiled machine, and he also continued to take his godfather duties seriously. Recently, he and Blake had decided not to have children of their own, so they had redoubled their efforts to spoil Johan. Sookie somehow knew that the couple would be even worse with Kate.

Pam and Amelia were planning a huge wedding for early September, and Sookie was going to be a bridesmaid, though the couple had yet to decide who "got" her. Regardless, she'd been ordered to get her first fitting done—for her already humongous lavender bridesmaid dress! The only good thing about the garment was that it had so much tulle that it would accommodate her growing child. Still, Sookie was already dreading "waddling" down the aisle. But she would do it for Pam and Amelia.

Meanwhile, Eric had been claimed as Pam's best man, and though he was going to be wearing a lavender tie, the rest of his tux was quite elegant. Sookie was quite jealous of his luck in the wedding outfit department. Of course—as could be expected—both Pam and Amelia were vying for the title of "chief bridezilla." And—surprisingly—Amelia was currently in the lead.

Bobby and Thalia had foregone a wedding and had followed Niall and Mormor's example by eloping—though they'd opted for Niagara Falls instead of Vegas. Sookie and Eric—and Johan, of course—had been invited along as witnesses.

Sookie sighed and burrowed into her husband's body even more. Yes. Their lives were moving forward, through the good and the bad. And, through it all, Eric had become the patriarch of the Northman family—despite how unlikely that might have seemed the year before. Even more unlikely was the fact that Sookie felt like the matriarch. But—then again—she had come to know that her place was right next to Eric, no matter what the capacity.

And by his side—no longer afraid of the world—she would stay.


	42. Epilogue: No Hurry at All

Epilogue: No Hurry at All

The concrete steps leading into the MET were cold that Sunday morning. January had gifted New Yorkers with two dustings of snow already, but the sun was bright as the two children exhaled deeply and watched their breath in the air. They giggled and then chased each other up and down the stairs, being careful to stay inside the radius that they intuited their parents would approve of.

The eldest of the children, a seven-year-old blond-haired little boy, skidded to a stop as he saw that his little sister, who was a year younger than him, was in danger of slipping on the steps. He steadied her and made sure that she was okay before running from her again.

The girl, her own blond locks lighter than her brother's hair, giggled her way after him until both children heard the cry of their newest sibling. They came to a halt and ran back up to their parents.

"Why is he crying?" Kate asked with a tilt of her head as she took in her little brother, wrapped snuggly in her father's arms.

"Sometimes babies just cry," Eric said, rocking his youngest son gently in his arms.

"I didn't cry," Kate insisted.

Eric laughed. "You used to—sometimes. When you were hungry or when you were tired or when you needed your diaper changed."

"I'm a big girl," Kate said, crinkling her nose and placing her hands on her hips. "I don't need diapers any more. And I can't 'member cryin'."

"Oh—you cried," her big brother Johan confirmed. "But not a lot," he added to make his sister feel better. "I'm sure I cried more."

Eric chuckled as the baby settled down in his now-expert arms. Little Niall Benjamin, named for the two men whom his children called grandpa, was easy enough to soothe. He just liked to be rocked a little.

Sookie sat back a bit and watched her children go back to their play. She looked down at her hand, which was interlocked in her husband's, and then she looked into his eyes, which were looking right back at her.

He squeezed his hand. Both of them were remembering a time when they thought that such a moment as the one they were now sharing was not something meant for them. However, during the last eight years many such moments had been theirs, and Eric and Sookie were thankful for all of them.

It wasn't that the bad still didn't come with the good, but—thankfully—their lives no longer included psychopaths hell-bent on harming them or parents anxious to continue abusing them.

Of course, they had to deal with the kinds of sorrows everyone did. Niall had been diagnosed with cancer the year before, and—although the elderly man was doing his best to fight the disease, which was in remission for the time-being—he wasn't nearly as energetic as he used to be. They'd received another piece of difficult news earlier that week. Remy Savoy's condition was now grave. His HIV had developed into AIDS the year before, and he was not doing well at all. Over the years, Sookie and Eric had made a point to get to know Remy and Hunter. Hunter was only about a year and a half older than Johan, and the boys got along especially well.

Remy's parents had been helping him with Hunter since Remy's HIV had transitioned to AIDS. However, he'd called Eric and Sookie the Tuesday before to ask them if they would consider adopting Hunter and being the child's "second parents" once he succumbed to his disease. There had been no hesitation on their part.

Briefly, after Kate had been born, Eric and she had considered moving into the old Northman estate, which had reverted to Eric's ownership after Grace Northman had shot herself the day before she was to be sentenced for her crimes. Given her age and status, she'd been released on bail during her trial, though she was under house arrest. When her lead attorney had told her that she was going to be found guilty and that there was nothing he could do to prevent that, she'd dressed in her finest clothes, and—in the dead of the night—she'd put a bullet in her brain.

She'd gotten off easy, but Eric was glad she was gone. A part of him would have always worried about what kinds of machinations she could had accomplished—even from prison—if she were still alive.

True to form, Grace had never properly signed or filed the paperwork which would have given her ownership of the property. In a bile-filled suicide note addressed to Eric, she'd said that she couldn't stomach the idea of leaving HER property to Johan when she died. Of course, the effect of her action was that the property reverted to Eric anyway.

However, given the fact that so many had died in that house on that horrible day more than six years before, Sookie and Eric had opted not to move there, and—even though the house had been in the Northman family for over a hundred and thirty years—they didn't want it for their kids either.

The property had been on the market for almost four years. Eric had considered donating the home to be used for an orphanage or a shelter; however, there were all kinds of city zoning ordinances, which had prevented those plans. He'd also considered just donating the estate to the city as a historical building and then writing off the donation and taking a huge tax break. However, just that week, they'd finally gotten an offer they could accept, though it was 12% under the property's market value.

Both Eric and Sookie were glad to get rid of the house, which had stood empty since Grace's death. Eric had helped Grace's staff find other work, and he'd taken some of the things that had belonged to his grandfather. He'd also let his siblings take anything they wanted, but—other than that—he'd not returned to the home where he could have been killed.

Where Kate, Milos, and Nora had died.

Eric and Sookie planned to put the money from the sale into a trust that would one day be split between all of their children.

In addition to not wanting to deal with the ghosts of the past by living in the Northman Estate, Sookie and Eric loved their own home much too much to leave it, despite the fact that they had no yard. Happily, Riverside Park was close. The renovations to convert the two separate floors into one home had taken a long time, given all the structural changes that had to be made, but at the end of those changes, they had plenty of room—which had turned out to be a very good thing since Hunter would soon be arriving.

Sookie smiled a little as she noticed the way Eric was absentmindedly stroking her palm with his thumb as he watched over their children. He'd been heavily involved in the renovations of their home, working with the architect and basically designing the alterations, which included the adding of two major stairwells between the floors; a separate apartment for Miranda and Jarod and their two-year-old girl, Maggy; a large den area for the kids; and four new bedrooms, each with its own bathroom.

Eric had enjoyed the project immensely and had even toyed with the idea of leaving NP since it was running so smoothly now—and since he knew that Tamara and Pam could run things without him. However, he loved his work at NP too much to leave it. Like his morfar Johan, Eric was a builder with his brain and his hands. Of course, in Sookie's opinion, his best "building" was in making sure their family was strong, and she couldn't imagine a better husband and father.

However, given his love for architecture, Sookie had encouraged Eric with his idea of expanding Mormor's house in Sweden, where they still spent part of their summers. When it was feasible, Eric and Sookie would spend their vacations at the lake house, giving Mormor and Niall a chance to spoil the kids, but, even then, the house was crowded, especially since Amelia and Pam or Bobby and Thalia and their children often spent part of the summers with them. Plus, Miranda and Jarod and Maggy always came along too.

Indeed, now that their family was growing—seemingly exponentially—extra room was a must.

"What are you thinking?" Eric asked, looking at Sookie with a little smile.

"About how our family's growing," she smiled back.

He chuckled. "Just wait until Pam and Amelia have their kids."

Sookie shook her head and giggled a little. "Do you really think they'll go through with their plans?"

"Yeah," Eric said, shaking his head. "But I don't know if I'll want to be around them for nine months."

Sookie nodded in agreement. Pam and Amelia had been talking about having kids for a while, and "shopping the sperm bank" had become a more serious business to Pam than shopping for shoes had ever been. However, she and Amelia hadn't been able to decide who would be the baby's biological mother. Both of them had wanted that honor. Just two weeks before, Bobby had made a joke that they should both get pregnant at the same time—with the same guy's sperm—though Bobby had been quick to clarify that he wasn't volunteering when his own very pregnant wife, Talia, had given him her patented "look."

Not two days later, Amelia and Pam seemed to have taken the joke seriously, and as soon as Pam picked the "perfect little swimmers," she and Amelia both planned to try to get pregnant—at the same time. Though Sookie and Eric were excited for the couple, they were both a little afraid of what Henry had dubbed the "dueling pregnancies." Meanwhile, Niall and Mormor were in hog-heaven at the thought of all of their new grandbabies. They had little Niall, Hunter, Kate, and Johan; as well as Pam and Amelia's potential little ones; as well as Thalia's children, whom Bobby had adopted, and the little boy Thalia was carrying; as well as Maggy, whom they considered "theirs" too. Claudine and Rasul, who had gotten together three years before, were also expecting their first child. Niall liked to laugh about how he would soon have a baseball team of grandchildren.

Sookie couldn't help but to be a little melancholy when she thought about Niall's and Elsa's advanced ages. She hoped they'd be around for a long time to come so that they could enjoy all their great-grandchildren. Plus—selfishly—Sookie didn't want to lose them either.

"Did you get a chance to look at the bunk beds I picked out for Hunter and Johan?" Eric asked quietly so that the kids wouldn't hear them. Though their children knew that Hunter would be living with them soon, Eric and Sookie wanted to surprise Johan and Hunter with the fact that they'd be sharing a room as they had the spring before when they'd all vacationed together in New Orleans. In a few years, they figured that the boys would want their own rooms, and there was plenty of space for that, but both Eric and Sookie intuited that Hunter's integration into their family might be easier for him if he shared a room with Johan for the time-being.

"Yeah," Sookie smiled. "But don't you think a rope swing and a slide is a bit much?" she asked with a little smirk.

"What?" Eric asked innocently. "They're boys."

"You know that your daughter is going to want to stay in there too."

Eric chuckled. "They make a version with three beds."

"And let me guess. That's the one you ordered?" Sookie asked with a chuckle.

"Better safe than sorry," he said, bending down to kiss her on her nose.

She shook her head indulgently. "You know, Hunter's already nine; he'll probably outgrow something like that soon."

Eric nodded. "Yeah. But Claudine cautioned us that he might regress a little." He sighed. "Plus, he'll be able to move into his own room as soon as he wants, and the other kids can use the bunk beds until they outgrow them too. And by then," he added, his eyebrows waggling, "we might have another who would like to use it with Niall."

Sookie arched a brow. "Really? Are you making plans without me, Mr. Northman?"

"Absolutely not," he vowed. "But it is January, and you know how we are."

She giggled. "Yeah. I do." All three of their children had been conceived in that month, and all three had been conceived while they were using birth control. Of course, they'd always been joyous when they'd learned about them. Sookie had carried Kate and Niall to term, so their birthdays were both in early October, while Johan's was in August since he was born premature. But their estimated conception dates were all during the middle of January—though in different years, of course.

Sookie touched her belly with her free hand. I'd probably better get a test—just in case," she joked.

He arched a brow. "Yep—you probably should. Remember the NP party was just last weekend, and you know what that means?"

Sookie laughed. "Super sperm," she whispered so that the kids wouldn't hear.

Eric shrugged playfully. "I'm just saying." His face grew a little more serious. "And I kind of have that feeling I got with Kate and Niall."

Sookie looked at Eric with a little surprise. "Really?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he said. "Remember the other day—when Henry and Bobby took Kate and Johan to the movies?"

Sookie blushed. "The shower?"

"Or the kitchen counter," he smirked.

Sookie nodded, remembering how they'd taken complete advantage of the fact that Niall had napped for several hours while their other kids were with their godfathers.

"I'll make an appointment before we go to Louisiana," Sookie said seriously. Her husband's sixth sense was not to be ignored—especially not when it came to their kids.

Eric frowned a little. "I'm worried about Hunter. When I spoke with him on the phone yesterday, it was clear that Remy's illness has affected him greatly."

"I know," Sookie said in an even lower voice. "And Remy's mom told me that she doesn't think Remy will last much longer. He's very weak now."

Eric nodded sadly. "Now that Remy's doctor is suggesting hospice care, I think that's a foregone conclusion."

"We'll be there in four days," Sookie said, squeezing Eric's hand.

"I think we should go tomorrow," Eric said quietly. "Pam—along with her little shadow—can take my meetings."

"Gracie," Sookie smiled a little. Gracie, now a lovely young woman, was attending college at NYU and had been working as Pam's "intern" at NP. She had an eye for graphic art, and Pam had begun letting her make many of the decisions when it came to cover art for books.

"Yeah," Eric said with a little smile before his expression fell again. "I just think Hunter needs us sooner rather than later. And Johan would cheer him up."

"Okay—then let's go tomorrow morning. I'm sure Niall will let us use the jet."

Eric kissed Sookie's hand and looked back at their kids. In turn, Sookie leaned up to give him a little kiss on the cheek. Eric and she were planning to stay in Louisiana until Remy passed away. It was a sobering thought, but—as Eric had said—Remy was losing his battle, and his doctor had already told him to get his affairs in order. Quickly.

Though they were officially cousins, Hunter called Sookie and Eric his aunt and uncle, and "Uncle Eric" was Hunter's particular favorite. Of course, all the kids in the family still gravitated toward Eric. Sookie smiled.

"What?" Eric asked her, again wanting to know her thoughts.

"Maybe—if I'm pregnant, this one will finally be a momma's girl or boy, oh great 'baby whisperer,'" she giggled.

He chuckled. He'd gotten the nickname 'baby whisperer' from Bobby right after Johan was born, and it had become a running joke among everyone that if a baby was crying, it should just be handed to Eric. Truth be told, more often than not, the baby did calm down in his arms.

"We both know that Kate always preferred you when she was fussy," he reminded her quietly.

She looked at him skeptically. "I think it was more of a tie. Remember when she was colicky?"

He chuckled again and kissed her forehead. "I'll never forget that," he whispered. "That's when I realized she was going to be high-maintenance," he added fondly.

Both parents turned their focus to their kids immediately when they saw Kate almost trip over her too-quickly moving legs.

"Not too fast, Katy!" came Johan's protective voice. Only he could get away with calling her by that nickname. "Remember how you fell last time and skinned your knee."

Sookie and Eric smiled at their dare-devil daughter and their more cautious eldest son. They were as different as two children could be, but they had complemented each other from the start.

"I know that I falled last time," Kate said with her hands on her hips again and a stubborn look in her eyes. "But I got up, and Mommy gave me a froggie," she said, referring to the animal that had been on the Band-Aid that Sookie had put onto her scraped knee. Band-Aids were a must for any adult's pockets when he or she spent time around Kate.

Sookie and Eric looked at each other and chuckled when they saw Johan's skeptical look. Though he was older than his sister, he looked younger in that moment. In fact, Kate was on the verge of out-growing him, though Johan had Eric's slim build and would likely be just as tall as his father one day. Even if he looked young for his age, however, he was quite advanced both socially and intellectually according to his teachers, and he took his job as big brother very seriously.

On the other hand, school bored Kate to tears, though she did like recess. She, too, was smart, however. It was just that she preferred to do "different" things than her teachers wanted. Yes—she was a handful!

Sookie took a long drink of her coffee, enjoying the fact that she could have it once more now that her youngest boy had stopped nursing.

She sighed and a contented smile eased across her face.

"What this time?" Eric asked her with a smirk.

She squeezed his hand. "I was just thinking about how important it is to get up after we fall."

"Or when we get pushed," Eric added, with just a pang of melancholy in his voice.

"Yes," Sookie said, her tone matching his.

They looked back at their children, both internally vowing that no force on earth would ever "push" Johan, Kate, Niall, or Hunter down if they could help it. Their little ones might fall, but Eric and Sookie would always be there to offer them a hand up.

Sookie felt her smile drift back to her face. For the first year of Johan's life, she and Eric had always brought their quiet eldest son with them to the MET for their usual Sunday visits, but, after the rambunctious and, indeed, high-maintenance Kate was born, they could no longer bring the kids with them—if they wanted to have any peace. However, every Sunday, she and Eric still made their visits—thanks to Henry and Blake, who always babysat the kids on Sundays. Not counting the special exhibits that moved in and out of the MET, which Eric and Sookie always tried to catch, there were around 440 galleries. Together, they'd seen almost 300 of them. Their Sundays at the MET remained some of their favorite times together, and no matter how busy life got, those times helped her and Eric just relax with each other.

However, the MET was still a big part of the kids' lives too. Ever since Johan was three and Kate was two, Eric and Sookie had brought them to the MET one or two Saturdays a month so that they could enjoy the many activities for children. The "Start with Art" program was Johan's favorite since he and his daddy could draw while listening to stories about the art. Kate liked that program too, though the very active girl enjoyed "Art Trek" even more.

Going to the MET also allowed the kids to see one of their favorite people, Ben, more often. In fact, he was Grandpa Ben to the children, and his wife Maria was Grandma Maria.

"Mommy?" Johan said, coming up to her. "What are we doin' today?"

Sookie smiled. "Today we are going to story time."

"What's that?" Kate asked.

"Well—someone will read us a story, and then we will be going on a treasure hunt to find all the art in it," she said.

"I'm on Mommy's team!" Kate pronounced.

Eric chuckled. "What is Daddy—chopped liver?"

"I don't like liver," the blunt Kate explained. "And Mommy knows where everything is!"

Eric chuckled again. It was true. While he was familiar with a lot of the art in the museum, he tended to remember only a few pieces from each gallery. He always recalled the piece Sookie chose as her favorite each week. And if a different piece stood out to him, he always remembered that one too, but Sookie's knack for recollecting things was uncanny.

"Why don't we all be on the same team today and find all the art together?" Eric suggested.

Kate thought for a minute. "Okay. Can Grandpa Ben play?"

"I'm sure he'll come spend an hour or so with us," Eric smiled, "but remember that he has to work too."

Kate's little eyebrows furrowed. "Why would anyone work when they could play with me instead?"

"I have no idea, Little One," Eric chuckled, pulling his little ray of sunshine to him with a long arm and giving her a quick kiss on her head before launching her back at her brother.

Eric and Sookie both laughed as Kate immediately went back to running after Johan. Indeed, she did trip a little on the wide steps, but she laughed through it and continued her chase.

Little Niall had settled into sleep against Eric's chest, and Eric made sure that he was still covered thoroughly by his thick blanket, though the bright sun and lack of wind made the January morning unseasonably warm.

He nodded to Jarod who was watching over his family from about ten feet away. He and Sookie had thought about whether they should keep their guards, but they'd decided to err on the side of caution, even though they had no overt enemies left.

Eric's thoughts went back to his wife as she scooted a little closer to him and leaned against him. He readjusted them so that one of his arms was around her and the other one was under little Niall even though the baby carrier he was wearing was enough to keep the infant cradled to him. Sookie was quick to thread her fingers back into his as soon as they were repositioned.

He spoke in a faraway voice as he glanced at his two oldest children, playing gleefully on the MET's steps. "I once had a fantasy of a moment just like this one, but when I opened my eyes, my hand was empty." He looked at their entwined hands.

Sookie nestled into him a little more—closer. "It's not empty now," she whispered as she squeezed his hand.

"No," he whispered, so that she could barely hear him, "it's full now." He sighed contently. "And it gets fuller every day."

Though the museum had opened fifteen minutes before, Eric and Sookie weren't in a hurry to go inside. Kate and Johan were having too much fun playing on the steps to interrupt them. Plus, the family had all day to enjoy the museum and the rest of their lives to enjoy each other.

There was no hurry at all.

The End of the Comfortably Numb Trilogy.   
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